Home Ice Advantage
by Hibbleton78
Summary: One NHL star. One hockey fan. After months of flirting through plexiglass in an arena full of hockey fans, Lord Stanley brought them together. Now they just have to stay together. Expansion of the One-Shot.
1. Chapter 1

**Let's get the disclaimer out of the way right now. I don't own Twilight, I don't own these characters, I am not Stephanie Meyer and at no point during the writing and posting of this story will I manage to morph into her so please forgive me if I don't post any more disclaimers from here on out, 'kay?**

**Thanks go out to DADirtybird who put the beta hat back on again. Love her to pieces, even if she is a Red Wings fan. ;-)**  
**And to lisamichelle17, a fellow hockey lover who also stepped in during the Alt-POV and has so nicely agreed to let me bounce this off of her before it's ready to post.**

**For those of you who read the original one shot and/or the alternative POV, this picks up later in the summer after those ended. For any newbies popping in, this story is an expansion of a one shot I wrote a couple years ago. I had some incredible reviewers who urged me to write more, and though it took me a lot longer than I had expected, here it is. I'm gonna try to write this so that it stands alone, but I have no idea if I'll succeed, so if you have some free time, check out my profile for the original to find out how these two kids got together.**

**One more note, in the one shot I didn't specify what team Edward played for (please ignore that glaring double entendre). It wasn't necessary and I wanted to leave it open for readers to assign their own teams if they wanted. Couldn't do that in an expansion so after debating real or fictional team I ended up choosing a canon city...Phoenix. Now I have to give myself a crash course in Coyotes since I only ever 'see' them a couple times a year. But it's still fictional, I won't be using actual players and will probably not accurately describe the real team's culture. Sorry Coyotes fans.  
**

* * *

**Chapter 1**

As exhausted as I was I almost could've convinced myself I was dreaming. My dreams were never this vivid, though; heat of another body pressed against mine, the tickle of light exhalations against my neck, and the prickly scrape of a couple days' worth of stubble teasing my skin couldn't be anything but real.

"Are you awake?"

I felt the slight grin work its way across my face. "Mmhmm."

"You didn't come over."

I turned in the tight space in his arms. The room was dark, the little bit of ambient light allowing me to see nothing but his profile in shadow.

"Flight was delayed and I knew you had to be up early."

He leaned forward and my breath caught as I waited for that moment when his lips touched mine. My neck arched, seeking pressure, but he preferred to tease me with light grazes. Back and forth. Back and forth. Then finally angling, pressure, and tongue—just a touch.

"I missed you," he whispered before kissing me fully.

I moaned when I felt him shift so that more of his weight pressed into me, pinning me to the mattress. I tightened my grip, not wanting him to move. Once he'd kissed me thoroughly and had my heart pounding in double-time he backed off. The whine that escaped me when he did so was unpreventable.

"I missed you too," I said, picking up where conversation had left off minutes before.

We both awkwardly maneuvered until we were comfortable: him on his back and me curled into his side.

"Five days is too long," he said as his fingertips traced up and down my arm. "I get so bored when you aren't here."

"Just wait til you have to go back on the road again," I said, snuggling closer and pressing my nose into his shirt. I didn't even bother trying to hide how much I loved the smell of him—fabric softener and something that was purely Edward.

I hooked my leg over his thigh, immediately realizing something and running my foot up and down to double-check. "Wait, did you drive over here in pajamas?"

"Yep," he said without an ounce of shame. "And about this being on the road thing . . . I did some thinking."

"Oh did you?"

"Yeah, I did," he answered without pause. "I think you should schedule all of your training sessions around the team schedule so that wherever I have to be, you have to be."

I laughed. "Genius idea. Now if we can only get clients to cooperate."

"I can be pretty persuasive."

Again, I laughed, knowing full well by his tone that a cocky smirk accompanied his words. "Oh I know full well how persuasive you can be."

He lowered his voice to a deep, rumbling whisper making me shiver. "You like it when I'm persuasive."

I nipped at his neck earning a growl. "Maybe a little."

Considering how I'd dug my heels in for six months, it amazed me how easy things were between us. Since that night he'd quite literally swept me off of my feet in the bar after the Stanley Cup win we'd been inseparable. Even when work sent me out of town, we were in constant contact.

I still had my moments. It wasn't so much insecurity as it was self-consciousness. For the most part it was easy to forget that he was connected to this public persona, but every so often the reminder would hit me out of nowhere. He was recognized on occasion, though not often enough to prohibit us from going out. Usually it was grown men who wanted to shake his hand or say hello, or wide-eyed, starstruck kids who desperately wanted his autograph. Fortunately for my jealous streak—oh yeah, I had one—the women were rarer, and to be honest, most of the ones vying for his attention seemed to do so having no idea who he was. Their flirtations were solely based on the fact that he was a gorgeous man and not that he was a professional athlete with a multi-million dollar contract.

More than being recognized in public, it was his obligations to the team and league that always seemed to catch me off guard. With the season over, I didn't have the constant reminder that he was 'Edward the hockey player.' He was just Edward. Charity golf events, youth street hockey clinics, or that invitation to the NHL Awards made sure I didn't forget. I'd begun to disassociate the two versions of him very shortly after we started dating so it was always a little surreal when those two versions converged.

It kind of worked out for the better, easing me into that side of things, giving me time to get comfortable before the spotlight really started to hit when the season started. The next season was right around the corner. Physicals and fitness testing were scheduled for mid-September, just two weeks away. I was a little nervous about what—if anything—would change.

The past two weeks had been tough. In addition to my five day road trip, I'd had two other shorter trips. This meant I was only home four out of the last fourteen days. Edward had been adding extra conditioning workouts to his routine to get back into game shape. As evidenced by the steady breaths signifying that he was already fast asleep, he'd been working himself to exhaustion.

I knew we could work with all of that; we could make sure that in the chaos of our lives we didn't let 'us' slip. My biggest concern was falling back into old mindsets and somehow sabotaging everything by worrying about being judged.

These thoughts weighed on my mind often so it was no surprise that I fell asleep to them. But waking up to Edward's lips trailing soft kisses on my shoulder was enough to make me think I worried for nothing, because in moments like this, none of that other stuff made a damn bit of difference. He was just Edward . . . a guy I was quickly falling for who just happened to have a cooler job than most.

"You have to go?" I mumbled.

"Yeah," he said, stopping to continue his path toward my neck. "Soon."

I looked at him over my shoulder. "_Soon_ soon? Or soon but still have a little time to kill?"

It was early, very early, but the tiny bit of light starting to peek through was enough for me to see the wicked glint in his eye and an evil smirk.

"Technically _soon_ soon, but I think I can make an exception," he said. "They'll survive without me for a little while."

* * *

Some players made Phoenix their home year round while others scattered in the off-season. It had surprised me that Edward would want to stick around. It surprised me even more when I found out that wasn't his original intention. He'd admitted it not too long ago, and it might've been the first time I'd ever seen him embarrassed. What he had been afraid would come across as a creepy and extreme decision, based on his interest in a stranger, I saw as an overwhelming show of faith in the possibility of us. To be honest, it made me fall for him a little more.

I was so thankful for our time together over the summer. It was hard enough trying to start a relationship while dealing with my travel schedule; I couldn't imagine trying to maneuver through the getting-to-know-you stage with both of our schedules conspiring against us. I'd been working from home a little more often, but days like today, when I knew he'd be tied up with the guys, I made it a point to show my face.

"Morning, Stanley." That had become Mike's greeting to me once the details had come out of how and when Edward and I finally met after the Stanley Cup win. I'd tried many times to get him to stop, especially since it confused poor Jessica every time, but he thought it was creative and wasn't ready to give it up yet.

"Morning, Mike," I said with a wave and half grin. "Any interesting leads?"

He shuffled through the papers on his desk until he found what he was looking for. "Yeah, there's a few that look promising. They seem very interested in our training."

Taking the spreadsheet from his hand, I couldn't help but be impressed. There were quite a few companies I'd never heard of before, but there were four Fortune 100 companies that he'd managed to snag. It boded well for our bottom line.

"Nice work."

"Hey, Bella!" Jessica called, hopping up from her desk and following me to my office.

"Yeah?"

"So, I was watching the news last night . . . " she paused for a moment and leaned against the wall next to my door. "They were doing this preview of the team for the upcoming season."

"Uh huh," I said, not sure where this was heading.

"There are some really cute guys on the team, aren't there?"

I grinned and stifled a laugh as I motioned her into my office. "I suppose, but I'm really just concerned about the one."

"Yeah, well, we all aren't lucky enough to have the hottest professional athlete in town declare his eternal devotion in public," she said with a wink as she sat down and propped her feet up.

I chuckled before turning serious. "You know that's not why I'm with him, right?"

She rolled her eyes and laughed at me. "Of course I know that. It's just fun to give you a hard time about it because I know it gets to you."

We chatted for a few more minutes as my computer booted up. After she left I got lost in my inbox trying to figure out what needed immediate attention and what could be skipped over for later. I didn't realize how much time had passed until I heard a small commotion outside my door. It was the now familiar sound of Mike scrambling to impress my visitor.

"So, you just coming back from practice?"

I made it to my door just in time to see Mike keeping pace with Edward.

"Unofficial practice, but yeah."

"Working on some new moves? Maybe a little 'one, two, three, triple deke'?"

I pressed my lips together to hold in my laugh.

"Hey, how about some lunch?" Edward passed one of the bags over to Mike and effectively derailing that conversation. "Hey, Jess, there's some here for you, too. Wasn't sure what you guys liked so I got a few different things."

I couldn't stop the grin on my face at how thoughtful he was as I watched him try to explain what all he'd brought with him.

"What?" he asked, looking a little self-conscious when he was finally standing right in front of me.

I shook my head. "You."

"Glad I amuse you," he said just before pressing a soft kiss to my lips. "Now come on. Lunch." He held the remaining bag up for me to see as he passed by.

I pulled a chair around behind my desk so we could sit side by side while he moved paperwork out of the way, making room for the food.

"So, Mike's pretty enthusiastic, huh?"

I laughed, maybe a little too loudly. "Don't pay attention to him. Everything he knows about hockey he learned from watching 'The Mighty Ducks.'"

"Guess I should have an answer prepared for when he asks me about the 'flying V' then, huh?"

After lunch he stuck around. I was stuck between cringing and laughing as he attempted to help and decided it was a very good thing he was able to turn hockey into a career because the man was definitely not suited for an office job. First, he made one hundred copies of a report instead of ten. Then he managed to jam the fax machine. While packaging up a box of supplies we were sending ahead to my next training session he used so many layers of packing tape that the entire box was covered, adding at least a pound to the shipping weight. I made a mental note to pack a knife or heavy duty scissors in my checked luggage because there was no way I'd be able to open it.

When he saw my wide eyed examination he simply shrugged. "What? I didn't want it to bust open in transit."

But it was when he decided to try answering phones that I nearly had a heart attack. I was in the middle of talking to Jessica as we tried to figure out the best way to close a deal with one potential client when Edward's side of the conversation caught my attention.

"No, I'm sorry. I can't let you speak to her."

"I don't believe that's any of your concern."

"Because I said so."

"Only if you're prepared to fork over top dollar. Her expertise is in high demand and I can't allow her time to be wasted."

My heart dropped into my stomach and I scrambled across the room, prepared to wrestle the phone from his hands as a list of all the clients that could possibly be on the line scrolled through my mind.

Edward looked up at me just as I made it to the desk where he was sitting.

"Okay, fine. Here she is." He handed the phone over to me grinned, kissing my cheek before walking away. "It's Alice."

My breath left me in one big gust as my body sagged against the desk. I wanted to say something, yell at him for scaring me like that, but at the moment I had no words. So instead I started lobbing pens, highlighters, and a pad or two of Post-Its in his general direction.

"Don't ever scare me like that again!" I yelled and punctuated each word with a different flying object.

His laugh was almost mocking as he deftly dodged each one.

"Come on! That was funny!" he said. "I didn't even realize you were listening! I was just fucking with Alice. That I got you too is just a bonus."

He didn't see the phone book coming at him until it was too late.

* * *

"Are you still mad at me?"

"Yes."

"No you're not."

"Yes I am."

"You're smiling. Sorta. You're fighting it but it's there. I can see it. Riiiight there. You can't be mad at me if you're smiling."

"Sure I can."

"Want me to make it up to you?"

I paused for a moment to think about whether I was willing to give in so easily, but really there was nothing to think about it.

"At least twice."

"Deal."

Before I could blink, I was tossed over his shoulder being carried to the bedroom. So he could make it up to me. Twice.

* * *

**A/N: No clue how often I'll update though I'll try to turn around quickly. I don't like to leave things hanging, but work's been chaos so I don't want to make promises. As soon as I do, work will cut into write time even more. You know how that goes. Jinx.**

**Happy Stanley Cup Playoffs! Good luck to your teams! (though not as much luck as I wish my Penguins)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Back for more? Sadly my Pens are out of the playoffs (and at the risk of ticking off Flyers fans, as far as I'm concerned that ended a 3-3 series... Game 1 was SO ours. You cannot score a goal on an offside pass!) but I'll try not to let my bitterness slip into the story ;-)**

**Thanks go out to my dirtybird beta :-) and to Lisa for pre-reading (and supplying me with all sorts of pictures to illustrate the chapter)**

**And thanks to all of you for reading!**

* * *

**Chapter 2**

Two weeks, and another three out-of-state training sessions later, we were thrown into the first stage of trying to work with two chaotic schedules. The team had reconvened for the start of pre-season with regular practices and workouts while the coaches determined who would make the final cut. While Edward and the majority of guys returning from last year were safe, the focus on the guys called up from the minors to fill those last few spots on the bench, they were all still working pretty hard. Edward often returned with all sorts of bumps and bruises that I delighted in kissing and making better.

"What are you thinking so hard about over there?"

My eyes snapped to Edward and I had to laugh at myself for drifting off. Considering we were standing in a noisy, crowded club that was quite a feat. I shook my head and said, "Nothing. Sorry, just spaced out."

"Come on." He took the drink from my hand and placed it on a nearby table with his own.

"Hey! I wasn't done with that."

"I'll buy you another one later. I want to get my arms around you."

He pulled me to an open space in the mass of moving bodies. Women in seas of shimmering fabric draped over perfect curves moved with deliberate rhythm against designer suits made casual with the loss of a tie and a few buttons undone.

I was out of my comfort zone in places like this where the women prowled for the men who would set them up for life, and the men bought their company for the inflated cost of a cosmo. We didn't do this often, but there was a bit of a party atmosphere amongst the team right now so there'd been a few nights like this lately. After months apart the teammates were catching up, reforming bonds. They enjoyed the freedom to indulge—whether in a night out with friends or any of the aforementioned women—before the team's schedule limited such opportunities.

The attitudes and proclivities of the guys I'd met so far varied widely. Tonight was comprised of a small group that ran the gamut of devoted family man to the stereotypical manwhore. The latter reminded me why I'd had no interest in pursuing an athlete before and made me so much more appreciative of what I'd found with Edward who seemed to fit in with and gravitate with the former. While the VIP area was crawling with women ready to compromise morals, we'd managed to insulate ourselves from them in a quiet corner for most of the night.

Out here in the undulating crowd it was harder to ignore the way people looked at him and me, as they did every other couple on the floor, trying to figure out if we were actually together or just together for the moment. I'd already had my fair share of propositions, so I knew it wasn't just the women searching for 'social' opportunities.

None of them stood a chance—with either of us. Even as surrounded as we were, our eyes never left each other. Edward used the crush of the crowd as an excuse to hold me closer, tighter. So tight that, although I couldn't hear the moan as I played with the hair at the nape of his neck, I could feel the vibration of it pass from his chest to mine.

"You about ready to go?"

He let his lips linger at my ear, nipping at the lobe, and I closed my eyes so I could focus all of my attention on just feeling him.

I didn't answer the question but my response was clear when I opened my eyes back up.

Leaning down he placed his lips against mine and said, "Let's get out of here." The kiss that immediately followed was a promise of things to come.

* * *

The trip from the curb to his house was a test in patience, even more than the trip in the cab. The need to touch was overwhelming and caused too much fumbling with keys for either of our liking. Once inside, we tripped over each other up the stairs, all lips and hands and legs.

I walked backwards up the steps, his grip the only thing keeping me from falling. The only conversation was a volley of "want you" and "need you" and "now."

Inside the bedroom we started pulling at each other's clothing, as ungraceful and sloppy as it was(,) it only added to the heat and desperation. The sound of a tear made me rip my mouth from his in a gasp. We both looked at what used to be a strap as it hung limply down the front of my dress.

Wide eyed and mouths opened in shock we looked at each other.

"You ripped my dress! I thought that only happened in movies and trashy romance novels."

He immediately burst into laughter, an adorable giggle that made his eyes crinkle. I loved his laugh, so carefree and wild.

He kissed me sweetly before pulling me toward the bed. "Come on, lover, that bodice isn't gonna rip itself."

* * *

If it was at all possible to fall in love with an inanimate object then I was pretty sure I was in love with Edward's couch. A massive, cushy monstrosity that one could get lost in, it was my favorite part of his house. He had the typical bachelor pad—the bare necessities yet teeming with electronics—but this couch made up for what it lacked in style.

Especially with how roomy it was.

I was lying there, late on a Saturday morning, pretending to read a book as he sat on the edge of the cushion by my legs, taping sticks. With only boxers covering him, I had the perfect view to watch the muscles of his back ripple under his skin as he wound the tape around the blade. I flipped the page I'd been working on for the last ten minutes just as he moved to start on the handle. I'd watched him do this so many times I was sure I could replicate it. One layer of tape down, then back up. Pull a length of the tape loose and spin it until it resembles a thin rope. Wind it around the handle, perfectly angled, from the top down for traction. Then one more layer of tape back up to hold it all in place. The perfect grip.

"What page are you on?" he asked over his shoulder as he laid the stick down.

"Two fourteen, why?"

He reached over and pulled the book out of my hand and tossed it across the floor as he moved to hover over me.

My favorite thing about the couch, it had plenty of room for both of us without running the risk of someone falling off when we inevitably started to fool around. His left hand worked its way up my bare leg and pushed the well-worn t-shirt of his I'd claimed long ago up over my hips. Back to my legs, his hand started at my knee and trailed an unpredictable path over my skin and snaked up my inner thigh. At the very top, at the point that just teased the edge of my panties, he squeezed with the perfect pressure to make me gasp and throw my head back.

"Better than reading, yeah?'

I pushed him off of me until he was sitting and immediately straddled his lap.

"Much better," I said before losing my shirt.

* * *

That evening our plans differed vastly from the night before. Hand in hand we walked into the familiar sports bar where it all started just a few months ago. I quickly spotted Rosalie waving her drink in the air at a table in the back.

Greetings were made as Edward and I took the last two seats at the table where they already had drinks waiting for us. I loved how well he got along with my friends, how seamlessly our group of five expanded to six. We'd spent so many nights like this over the summer. Edward had even spent quite a bit of time on his own with Emmett and Jasper so I'd never had to worry that he tolerated my friends for my sake. They truly were his friends too.

The overlapping conversations were proof of that. The guys immediately jumped into commentary on a baseball game playing on one of the many large screens hanging from the wall while Alice, Rosalie, and I caught up with each other.

"So have you decided what we're doing for your birthday this week?" Alice asked.

I grumbled, turning my nose up at the idea of celebrating. I'd always been one for keeping the day pretty low-key. "We don't have to do anything. Actually, I'd kind of prefer that."

"I still don't understand your aversion to birthdays," Rosalie said with a laugh. "You're so weird."

I shrugged. "It kind of loses its appeal after all the major benchmarks are passed. And anything to _not_ call attention to myself . . . "

"Not me," Alice said, waving her beer in the air in emphasis. "I'm never going to stop expecting people to make a big deal out of my birthday."

I laughed, taking a swig of my own beer. "I'm gonna see your name on 'Today' one day when you're 100 for the Smucker's birthday wishes."

"Damn right," she said, tipping her bottle in my direction as a cue for me to clink glass.

The waitress came over to take orders. I opted for the chicken wrap and had to laugh at frantic scratch of pen on paper as she tried to keep up with Edward.

"Dozen hot wings, bacon cheeseburger with everything, fries with that . . . uh, side of whatever vegetables you have . . . oh, and an order of chicken nachos to start."

"Is that all?" she asked. I barked out a laugh before I could stop myself. I had no idea how she was able to ask that question without it dripping in sarcasm, but the girl was perfectly professional.

"What?" he asked me.

I shook my head.

He stretched, pushing his stomach out and patting it. "I'm a growing boy, I need the calories."

As much as he might've been joking, it was true. He'd had a healthy appetite all summer but being back on the ice had increased it. He burned it all off so quickly, and he usually tried to eat healthier, so the occasional night of shoveling bar food into his mouth didn't matter. It was just amusing to watch.

As soon as the waitress left, conversations picked up again.

"Can't believe the pre-season games start in a couple weeks," Emmett said.

Edward gave a small snort and said, "Right? Where did the summer go?"

"What are you two gonna do?" Alice asked. It wasn't the first time the topic had come up but we'd never had any definitive answers before, not that we had any now. Playing it by ear seemed like a much better idea six weeks ago. Now it felt like the time we'd be forced to spend apart hung like a guillotine over our heads.

"I don't really know," I said.

"Well, I was thinking . . ." Edward said, glancing at me and looking slightly abashed, presumably for his poor timing. Whatever idea he'd come up with he hadn't shared while we were alone and could discuss it privately.

"Yeah?" I asked.

"Well I was looking at your schedule and you're in Albany in November, right?"

I mentally reviewed my calendar and recalled the two day training session scheduled for the Lockheed Martin office there. "Uh huh."

He picked at the label on his beer bottle, a nervous habit I knew he'd hate to know that I referred to as cute.

"We're flying into Buffalo the same day you finish up there so I thought maybe you could make a side trip before you head home."

It only took a split second to catch on to what he really meant. "Oh. Oh!"

"Yeah, I thought maybe I could show you around a little since we're going to have a day off before the game on Sunday. I mean, they'll probably make us practice on Saturday but I'd have the rest of the day free."

Edward grew up not too far from Buffalo in a little town a few minutes from Niagara Falls. This wasn't just a plan to meet up mid-roadtrip. This was kind of big.

And though it took my friends a little longer to catch on, they eventually did.

"Shit, little Bella's gonna meet the parents, huh?" Emmett said and immediately started laughing, even as Rosalie elbowed him in the ribs.

I hadn't responded and I could tell that Edward was getting nervous by the way he couldn't hold eye contact and the abuse his fingers were inflicting as they raked his hair. I just couldn't seem to get words out.

"I, um . . ."

"It's okay, if you aren't ready, You don't have to," he said, this time his words quieter.

"No!" I said, a little too loudly. "No, you just surprised me. That's all."

His expression changed more hopeful than before but still guarded.

"Are you sure? You don't think it's too soon?"

He gave me a soft grin as he reached over to thumb over my cheek and said, "We'll have been together for five months at that point. No, I don't think it's too soon. Today wouldn't be too soon."

I forced a smile, though I was sure it was more of a grimace what with the butterflies dancing around my stomach. "Okay. Yeah. Let's do that then."

He leaned over and whispered in my ear, trying to ease my nerves in whatever privacy he could create. "Don't worry. They're gonna love you." It almost worked, but then he leaned back and said, "Besides, they're planning on flying here for Thanksgiving so even if you passed on Buffalo you'd meet them a week later anyway."

Later that night we were walking out of the bar, plates cleaned (he even finished mine), drinks imbibed, and games of pool both won and lost, when the topic of visiting his hometown came up again.

"I didn't mean to put you on the spot," he said with his arm around me as we walked down the sidewalk. "But I noticed that trip on your calendar the other day while you were out of town and forgot to mention it when you came back."

"It's fine. I just wasn't expecting that." I stepped up onto my tiptoes for a kiss to show how him just how 'not mad' I was. "Besides, I have no room to talk."

He stopped walking and I had to reverse the couple steps I'd gotten ahead of him.

"What do you mean?"

I wrapped my arms around his waist and looked up at him, feeling a little streak of mischief run through me at the payback I was about to extend.

"Oh, nothing. Just that my dad called earlier and was tossing around the idea of flying down for Christmas. You know, the man who gets paid to carry a gun?"

His head dropped back and his eyes closed. "Shiiiiit."

"Don't worry. He's gonna love you," I said, paraphrasing his earlier words. I was teasing him, but it wasn't a lie. Charlie might give him a hard time but I knew Edward would win him over. He was one of the good guys and I knew it wouldn't take Charlie any time at all to see that.

"Yeah right. No man loves the guy violating his little girl."


	3. Chapter 3

**Back for more? Sorry for the delay. Every time I see the light at the end of the tunnel at work, all hell breaks loose again. But things are SO much better now.  
**

**Big thanks to The Fictionators for sending so many of you this way last week. Truly, truly appreciate it!**

**Thanks to my dirtybird beta who managed to squeeze working on this chapter in between two sick kiddos. And to lisamichele17 for pre-reading. I so wish I could share the links to the images she sends me with her comments. It's like the best picture book ever when she's done with it. Plus she has a weird direct link into my brain. It's almost scary. In this chapter she pointed out something that reminded her of Mario Lemieux and I flipped. My description had been adapted from a play I got to see him make when he came out of retirement. Freaky.**

* * *

**Chapter 3**

Arms wrapped around me from behind as lips made a path up my neck to my jaw.

"Did I do okay?" he asked.

I couldn't remember the last time I'd enjoyed celebrating my birthday. I'd meant it at the time when I'd told Alice that I preferred to treat it as any other day, but looking around Edward's yard I was so glad no one listened to me.

"Better than okay. Perfect."

I turned my head and stretched to kiss him as his arms tightened the hug. A scream of protest drew our attention to the pool where Emmett had kneeled down at the edge to scoop water by the handful in order to splash at an unsuspecting Alice. I smiled and leaned back into Edward's body, his chin resting on my shoulder as we watched the display before us. Jasper was trying to hold back a laugh. Rosalie was telling Emmett not to underestimate Alice and while Alice strode with purposeful steps toward Emmett, clearly intending to push him into the water. And all the while Edward's lips teased kisses on my neck at unpredictable intervals making me anxious for time alone.

"Let's go sit," Edward said, unwrapping his arms from around me and taking my hand to lead me to an open seat near everyone else.

It had been an incredible day; a low-key affair with just the six of us at Edward's house. I hadn't been allowed to lift a finger while everyone cooked and grilled. We sat outside in the shade, drinking, eating, talking and laughing until the sun went down. As night began to fall, we moved further out into the yard by the pool to enjoy the view.

His yard had been perfectly designed for entertaining by the previous owners so we often took advantage of it. I couldn't imagine a better way to celebrate. As everyone found their own seats around us, I took some time to memorize the moment. I wasn't sure when we'd be able to get together like this again. For the next couple of weeks I was scheduled to spend more time on the road than off, making me miss all of the home pre-season games. Edward and I would hardly see each other before the first game of the season and I was dreading the separation.

I knew this was only the beginning.

Refusing to dwell, I focused on enjoying the night. Edward had the group in stitches, recalling some of the locker room pranks he'd played or endured over the years.

"A couple years ago we were in the middle of a long ass road trip. There were a couple new guys just pulled up from the minors, first time playing in the NHL. Where were we? I can't even remember what city we were in . . . but when we travel, everyone goes out to dinner together. It's not unusual for some of the guys to splinter off and do their own thing instead, so while everyone else was at this steakhouse, a few of us stayed behind. We got a housekeeper to let us into their room. We took everything out of their suitcases. Little things—shampoo, deodorant, chargers—we hid in random places around the room, but the clothes? Those we scattered all over that floor of the hotel. Some things were hanging from the other rooms' doorknobs, tossed around on the ground in the hall. We made a huge mess right by the elevators so they'd see it as soon as the doors opened."

"What'd they do?"

"What about the other people on the floor?"

"Aw, man, I'd been so pissed."

We were all speaking over each other, laughing as Edward gestured widely, leaning forward in his seat, as he told the story.

"I think the whole floor was just our team and staff. I never saw anyone else, at least. The two guys didn't do anything, really. Laughed, shook their heads, and went to track down all their shit. It's kind of expected when you come into a new team. I think a good prank is the standard welcome."

"How'd they get you when you came here?" Jasper asked.

Edward leaned back in the oversized chair. "It was a home game—just a few games in. Went to put my skates on and there were no laces. Searched everywhere and couldn't find them. No one would tell me where they were. They just sat around snickering while I tore everything apart. I ended up finding them stuffed into one of my gloves, but when I pulled them out, someone had knotted them together. Like, multiple knots running the entire length of the laces. Took me forever to get those damn things apart and I missed half of the warm up."

"Weren't there any extra laces around?" I asked, laughing. From the expression on his face he was reliving his frustration.

He snorted. "Those went missing too, and conveniently nobody—not even the equipment manager—had any spares."

* * *

As much as I hated being the one to leave, I soon found out that being the one left behind was so much worse. For months I'd been the one leaving town. Edward's only trips over the summer just happened to coincide with some of my work trips. I hadn't had to experience seeing him off and then trying to figure out how to spend my time at home. It was new, and strange, and I didn't like it one bit.

But, still, in the grand scheme of things, it was a small price to pay to be with him.

"You need to figure something out or my waistline's gonna be pissed at you," Alice said through a mouthful of chocolate chip cookie.

I looked at the countertop covered in cooling cookies. "I know. It's kind of excessive, huh?"

Alice moaned as she took another bite.

She'd come over to hang out and we'd been talking about the adjustment I was making—or still struggling with—now that Edward's schedule had reared its head. I couldn't remember how I spent my free time before him, and I often found myself trying to stay busy, keep moving. More often than not, this manifested in baking marathons.

"Lil bit," she said, chomping into another cookie. After a momentary pause, her expression softened. "It'll get better. Once you guys get used to it, figure out a routine."

I sighed as I sat down beside her. "I know. It just sucks." I shrugged.

"But think of all the reunion sex you get to have."

I barked out a laugh that devolved into a fit of giggles.

"No, seriously! Reunion sex is right up there with make up sex. You get to have it all the time. I have to pick a fight with Jasper over dirty socks if I want it that good."

I couldn't respond, just continued to laugh and shake my head.

Alice mumbled, "You think I'm kidding. Lucky bitch."

"You really know how to put things in perspective," I said, then snagged a cookie for myself.

"So when does he come back? Right after the game tonight or will they fly back tomorrow?"

"They're flying out tonight so he'll be home late. Middle of the night sometime."

Alice made a face. "That has to be so exhausting. To be on the road for a week, fly home, and only get a day off to rest? I'd need a week, at least." There was a short pause before Alice laughed and said, "I can't believe you still haven't seen him play."

"I've seen him play before," I said.

"No, I know, I mean you haven't seen him play since all of this." She waved a hand in the air. "Not since the two of you got together. Considering _how_ you got together, it's kind of funny."

The team's schedule had them opening the season with a road trip and the handful of preseason home games happened to fall when I was travelling so I'd had to miss them.

"Yeah, but I don't have to be on the road for another few weeks so I'll get to make up for that."

"Is it gonna be weird?" she asked.

"A little, I think. Not in a bad way . . . but it'll be different."

"The games we went to, it was a little strange. It's easy to forget who he is . . . he's just this guy I know, a good friend, the love of my best friend's life. Then you see him out there and it's like, 'oh yeah!'"

I smiled at her words.

"It changes the perspective a little bit. We've been going to these games for how many years? But there was a clear delineation between the team and the fans . . . and now that line is blurred because instead of rooting for the home team to win, you're supporting a friend, you want to see them succeed for him."

"Yeah, I've been thinking the same thing when I watch the games on tv."

"If it's weird for me, it's gonna be _so_ weird for you," she said with a laugh.

* * *

I was quieter than normal on the ride to the arena. As usual, the five of us piled into Emmett's SUV for the nearly forty minute trip from Scottsdale. The drive was typically passed with a comprehensive breakdown on the team's current state of play, the opposing teams strengths and weaknesses, and then whatever random conversations popped up to fill the empty spaces. And this trip was no different except for the fact that I was mostly silent.

I had no idea why I was nervous, but I was.

Once inside the arena, we went in search of food and drink—or, in my case, just drink. My stomach was too full of butterflies to consider eating anything.

I had to be extra careful walking down the steps to our seats. The teams were already warming up so my attention kept getting drawn to the ice, looking for Edward. I found him, over on the opposite side, stretching.

Plopping down in my seat, I took a long drink from my straw and kept my eyes on him as he got down on all fours and let his knees slide further and further apart, stretching the muscles in his inner thighs.

"Damn. That flexibility must come in handy." I cracked up laughing at Rosalie's outburst. Her kind of humor was always made in the delivery. It was just what I needed to get over whatever it was that was making me a ball of nerves and just enjoy the game.

The teams headed back to their respective locker rooms and re-emerged a short while later. I couldn't help the way my eyes found Edward wherever he was. For the first half of the period it felt like that was all I did, look for him, but eventually I was wrapped up in the game. A few hard hits, a couple close calls at the goal line, and one big, sweeping play that resulted in us taking an early lead had effectively nixed my strange mood.

I was back to my normal self—jumping up to cheer, jeer, and yell with the rest of the enthusiastic crowd.

* * *

Back at my place, the butterflies had returned, this time due to anticipation. I was still riding such a high from the first game of the season and couldn't wait to see Edward. I didn't know how long it would take him afterward, so my attention piqued with every passing car until it was obvious that it wasn't pulling into my driveway.

But when one finally did . . .

I hopped up from my seat and debated back and forth whether to rush out and jump into his arms the second he was out of the car or if I should stay inside and play it cool, act like I was reading, or watching a movie, maybe tooling around in the kitchen.

The door opened and I was rooted to the spot. He stood there in a perfectly fitted suit and tie, damp hair from a shower, and half-smile full of intention.

Oh god, the suit.

"C'mere," he said, reaching out for my hand. When I was close enough, he pulled me into his arms for a toe-curling kiss.

My heart fluttered at the feel of his tongue, and my fingers tangled in his hair to hold him in place, not wanting it to end.

He walked me backwards until my heels hit the bottom step. Before I could blink, he'd lifted me up to carry me upstairs. There were no questions as to where this was headed.

I bounced on the mattress where he'd dropped me before he took a few steps back, slowly undoing his tie. His eyes never left mine, and I couldn't look away. I suddenly knew what it was like to be the snake being charmed. The tie dropped to the ground where he stood, the suit jacket tossed in the general direction of the chair. He worked on the buttons at his sleeve. Then he untucked his shirt. He moved with teasingly slow calculation, smirking all the while at the effect he had on me, evident by the trembling of my body.

Piece by piece, clothing disappeared—first his, then mine—until we were a sweaty tangle of limbs. He moved with precision, bringing me to the brink and then pulling back until I was desperate for release. While every time with him had been good, better than good, this time was so different. There was such raw need and power, the built up adrenaline from the game taking control. If this was what I had to look forward to after every game, I'd be a very happy girl.

Later, after we'd exhausted ourselves and finally caught our breaths, we curled up together in the dark.

"Mmm, much better way to burn off the energy than going out for drinks after the game," he said, one hand playing with my hair.

"I agree." I said. My voice came out scratchier than I expected.

"So, what'd you think?" he asked, and by the tone I knew he was talking about the game and not our more recent activities . . . although I'd rate those pretty highly, too.

"It was such a good game. You guys played so well it seems hard to believe you're just getting back into the swing of things. And you! That second goal . . . you came from out of nowhere to set that up. I still can't figure out how it happened."

He laughed. "Eh, I was just there."

He was too cute like this. I could tell it was important to him to know what I thought, for him to have my approval, but he was so modest that he couldn't take compliments.

"No, really. Everyone, I mean everyone, thought the puck was going in one direction and then somehow it ends up on your stick in the other direction. It was such a perfect set up. Nobody in that place had any idea that it had gone in the goal. They were all still looking up ice for it."

He hadn't scored any goals, but he'd had two assists including that one. One of the things I'd always loved about him as a player was that, watching him, it was obvious that he was a team player. If he saw another guy had a better shot, he didn't hesitate to pass it rather than make an attempt just to boost his own stats.

In this particular case, the confusion bought him time where he could've snuck right up to the goal and taken a shot, but one of his teammates was already in place. So, rather than take the risk that the defense would catch on and double-back, he went for the sure thing and made the pass.

"I was just lucky," he said, brushing it off again, but I could hear the pride in his voice.

"Lucky that you're good at what you do," I said.

He rolled to face me, his left hand caressing my side. "Are you tired?"

"A little." I let my voice trail off in a way that left my options open.

Pushing his hips into mine, he whispered, "Too tired for more?"

I groaned and pushed back. "Never too tired for more."

"Good."

* * *

At some point, many hours later, when the sky was just beginning to lighten, I woke up to the feel of lips on my bare skin. First at my shoulder, then my neck, before working up my jaw and stopping at my ear.

I opened my eyes just a crack, so attuned to him that I could hear his breaths change as he hesitated to speak, the occasional hitch telling me that he had something to say but either wasn't ready or didn't know how to say it.

"I have a secret," he whispered, then pulled back to look me in the eyes. I didn't say anything, waiting in nervous anticipation for him to continue. A soft smile appeared before he leaned back in for a few more kisses to my jaw before whispering again. "I'm in love with you."


	4. Chapter 4

**SO sorry for the delay. And I'm so far behind on review replies. I had a work trip, and my dog spent five days in the ICU where I drove an hour and a half each way every day to visit with her for a couple hours. Even when I had free time my mind wasn't in a good place to write. But I finally got the chapter done! **

**Thanks to lisamichelle17 who leaves me pretty pictures and words in GDocs, and dadirtybird who squeezed this chapter in while juggling two kindergartners going through graduation.**

**I'm hoping to catch up on review replies, but I have another work trip starting bright and early tomorrow morning so I know I'm just going to fall even further behind. Sorry in advance! On the bright side, I'm already halfway through the next chapter so there shouldn't be much of a wait this time.**

* * *

**Chapter 4**

Sleep was elusive after Edward's admission in the wee hours of the morning. In my retelling I'd make sure to glamorize my response, but in reality I had been a weepy mess who couldn't form a coherent thought. I'd been stunned silent at first, unsure that I'd heard him correctly. I had been barely awake, after all. After a few moments of awkward silence I started crying. And smiling. Then crying some more as I sobbed an unintelligible "I love you" in return.

It really wasn't pretty, but he didn't seem to mind.

He fell back asleep after celebrating our confessions with slow, intense lovemaking. The best I could do was doze for a few minutes. It seemed as though every time unconsciousness started to take over, my brain would decide to replay his confession and wake me up all over again.

All in all, if I was going to lose sleep, this wasn't a bad reason for it to happen. Even if I was struggling to get out of bed this morning.

In the bathroom, I heard the water shut off and the scrape of the shower curtain being pulled back. I let my imagination fill in the blanks before rolling out of bed and sneaking in. My exhaustion made me a little more heavy footed than expected so I didn't so much sneak as thunder. Edward was watching me through the mirror as I slid in next to him to brush my teeth as he started to shave.

"Morning," he said, kissing my cheek while simultaneously shaking the can of shaving cream.

With my mouth full of foam, all I could do was nod and lean into him. He smelled so good—clean and fresh—still damp from the shower and wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. When I finished brushing, I moved out of his way to give him full access to the sink area. Slipping around behind him, I let my nails scrape lightly across his back and took pride in the shiver it elicited.

"What time do you have to leave?" I asked as I hoisted myself up onto the counter to watch him. Being a Sunday, they had an afternoon game he needed to get ready for.

"About an hour," he said, his razor clearing a path down one side of his face. I'd miss the scruff. He glanced over at me, smirking. "Why? You having ideas?"

"You wish," I teased.

He shook the water and shaving cream off the razor, setting it down so that he could put hands on the sides of my face to pull me in for a kiss. "Yes I do."

A muffled squeal was my response as I felt the shaving cream smear across my mouth. He was laughing, lips pressed firmly against mine, until I started to laugh too. Not caring anymore, I lifted my hands to his neck to hold him in place, deepening the kiss but careful not to let the foam get into my mouth. Just as we broke apart he quickly rubbed his face against mine to make sure I was covered, his laugh echoing off the tiles.

"You!" I yelled, a little indignant though mostly for show.

I reached for a hand towel, never breaking my playful glare as I swiped at the mess.

His smile didn't waver as he reapplied shaving cream.

"Better watch," I said, picking up his razor and pointing with it.

He smirked and moved to stand between my knees. "Do your worst," he said, lifting his chin.

It took a moment to realize what he wanted, and I quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Go for it. I trust you." Bracing his arms on either side of me, he leaned in.

I took a deep breath and let it out, trying to will my hand to stop shaking. As soon as I touched the razor to his skin, I looked into his eyes and saw nothing but absolute trust. The first stroke down was easy, doing wonders for my confidence.

I could feel his eyes on me as I worked. "Don't look at me," I mumbled, deep in concentration and a little self-conscious as I neared his chin on a down stroke.

He chuckled. "Where am I supposed to look?"

Glancing up, his laugh lines were prominent as he grinned, and I bit my lip to stop the stupid smile I could feel coming on.

"Did I miss any?" I asked as I finished up.

He turned his head from side to side in the mirror, running his hand across his cheeks and throat. "Nope. Perfect."

I wiped my hands off with a towel and started to shift on the counter to hop down, but he blocked my path. With his arms around me, he pulled my hips to the edge and leaned in for a searing kiss.

* * *

The arena was packed that afternoon for the game. The atmosphere inside was frenzied; we were winning, but only by one goal, but it was the hard-hitting action that drew people to their feet.

It started halfway through the first period when one of our guys landed a solid, brutal—but legal—check on one of theirs. From there, the gloves came off and the game turned dirty. Penalty after penalty was called, but nothing slowed down the fighting and under-handedness. The penalty boxes were often full to bursting, and as we neared the end of the game it was only getting worse. With less than ten minutes on the clock and only one goal separating the teams, it was getting desperate.

There was a small scuffle just across the ice that ended just as the puck worked its way free and was passed up ice. I quickly lost sight of it; with the location of our seats, the far end of the ice on our side was a blind spot. Stretching and standing on my tiptoes, I searched for a sign of something, anything, when the crowd began roaring—the distinctive sound of thousands of men, women, and children cheering for a good fight.

The seconds stretched as those of us on our end were left in the dark until it seemed the action was finally moving away from the corner and out toward the goal. At first it was the men on the periphery, all prepared to step in when the perfect moment arrived, nudging and pushing their opponents trying to instigate. Then it was the black and white stripes of the linesmen, shuffling about, trying to find an opening to step in and break things up.

Finally, I could see the mass of two bodies in an iron grip, fists flying. They were locked together in a pummeling huddle, and it wasn't until they spun in a half-circle that I realized Edward was one of them. My heart immediately dropped to my stomach with worry. I could hear someone—Alice, I think—saying something to me, but I'd already tuned everything out.

The fight continued with each man taking and landing hits, but from my angle I couldn't see much more than that. My concentration broke with a shake of my shoulder, and when I looked back to see who was trying to get my attention, Alice was pointing at the screens above where the fight was being displayed for all.

My hands flew to my mouth in a vain effort to hold in a gasp at the sight of blood. A crimson stream was working its way down Edward's face from somewhere around his eye. They were moving too much for me to see the source.

All of a sudden, everything shifted. The other guy lost his footing. The only thing keeping him from falling to the ice was the grip Edward had on his jersey. The change in position gave Edward an open shot as he landed hit after hit until the referee finally found the opening he needed to jump between the two men.

With his opponent splayed on the ice underneath the ref, Edward skated a few feet backward, breathing heavily and his face still full of rage. The crowd went nuts, cheering for him, as the two linesmen each took a side to urge him further back, guiding him toward the penalty box. Smaller melees began to break out amongst the other players now that the officials were otherwise occupied.

The chaos of the next few minutes left the whole crowd reeling. Every time a fight would be stopped, a new one would break out. Edward was in the box screaming obscenities, as was the other guy. More guys were added to each of the boxes, then Edward was sent off ice, but not without even more colorful language. Two more men skated off ice. Another five minutes was spent waiting while the officials sorted out penalties.

As soon as the announcement was made that Edward was one of three players given a game misconduct, and therefore he wouldn't be returning, I shot off a text.

**Are you okay?**

I kept my phone in my hand, waiting for it to vibrate. I didn't expect a quick response, figuring that checking his phone was the least of his worries at the moment, so I was surprised when less than thirty seconds later I had a message back.

**I'm fine. Just a small cut over my eyebrow. Getting ready to stitch now. Mostly just pissed.**

I breathed a sigh of relief, sent another message warning him not to scare me like that again, and settled in to watch the final few minutes of the game.

* * *

An hour later I was fidgeting at the table at an upscale steakhouse with my friends as we waited for Edward to arrive. They were all talking about the game as I listened, not participating. I had so much to get used to. My relationship with Edward changed how I looked at things. It didn't ruin my enjoyment; it simply shifted my priorities. What happened on the ice was much more personal than it had been a year ago. I was no longer unaffected. I couldn't enjoy a good fight like I used to.

Finally, Edward entered the dining room and worked his way through the tables until he reached ours. I swallowed against the lump in my throat as the stitches came into view and I saw the bruising that was starting to appear around his eye. He must've seen something in my reaction because he reached out to pull me into a hug, whispering in my ear, "It looks worse than it is."

I held on longer than was probably considered polite or appropriate in public, but he'd scared me. I hadn't realized just how badly until he was finally in front of me and I could see for myself. I could feel tears starting to build and took deep breaths to will them away.

"Hey, I'm okay," he said, pulling back enough to look me in the eye. "I promise."

I nodded and brought my hands to his face, as though to reassure myself. I lightly traced the bruise and the wound on his eyebrow.

"Are _you_ okay?" he asked.

"I am now."

"Good, now let's eat. I'm starving."

He kissed me once and then held my chair out for me before taking his own. Our waiter was hovering nearby and immediately took Edward's drink order.

"So what the hell happened out there?" Emmett asked.

"Yeah, we couldn't see how it all went down," Jasper added.

They both looked a little impressed, but Alice and Rosalie were more like me. They were scrutinizing Edward's face, examining the damage, looking a little shell-shocked. Rosalie, who was sitting next to me, reached over to squeeze my hand in a show of support.

"It had been building up all day," Edward said. "Not just him, but that whole team. So many little things just adding up. Trips, checks, nudges. They were trying so hard to throw us off our game. When I got to the puck in the corner, he slammed me into the boards. Annoying, yeah, but that's the game. But then he started trying to pull my feet out from under me with his stick and when I started to lose my balance he pushed my head into the boards with his forearm and held me there. I managed to knock him off of me and as soon as I did, I didn't think. I just turned around and started swinging. I'd finally had enough."

He shrugged, ending the story, and took a drink of the beer the waiter placed before him.

"You're not going to be suspended or anything, are you?" I asked. I didn't think he'd done anything worthy of a suspension, but then again I hadn't seen the entire fight.

He wrapped his hand around mine and tangled our fingers together. "Nah, I doubt it. The league will look at it, but we're all pretty sure the game misconduct will be it."

Conversation shifted to lighter topics and food was devoured. Seeing that he really was okay was what I needed to relax. We talked and laughed and snuck kisses in where we could. After such an emotional afternoon is was good to get back to the carefree tenderness of last night and this morning when we allowed ourselves to be led by our declarations of love. And as much as I adored spending time with my friends, I couldn't wait to pick up where we'd left off before he'd had to leave the house to make it to the arena. My emotions had been pulled from one extreme to the other, and I really needed time alone with him to center them.

If the looks he gave me were any indication, he felt exactly the same way.


	5. Chapter 5

**Thanks, as always, to my beta...I never know what to call you! dirtybird, detroitangel... Oh well, you know who you are, LOL! AND to Lisa for pre-reading and loading me down with lots of pretty pictures in the process.**

**I started posting another story, if anyone's interested. I know quite a few of you have already found it, and I thank you all. This is my foray into angst. It's called "Disengaged" and you can find it under my profile. Already have two chapters posted.**

* * *

**Chapter 5**

"I think I just got hit on."

I looked up from stack of mail to see Mike with his hand still on the phone after hanging it up, looking thoroughly scandalized.

"Did she sound cute?" I asked.

"No, _she_ didn't sound cute. _She_ sounded like a _he_. In fact, her name was 'Rick'. So I'm pretty sure she _is_ a he."

I cracked up laughing. "Hey, if it gets us the job, go with it."

Mike's face turned bright red and Jessica popped up behind me to add her two cents. "How do you think I got the Exxon contract?"

His mouth opened and closed a few times without a sound coming out before he stood up from his chair and walked out. Jessica and I took one look at each other and started laughing all over again.

"What's so funny?"

"Look who finally graced us with his presence?" Jessica said, smiling at Jake.

He shrugged. "Been keeping busy."

"Yeah yeah. World traveler," I said.

It wasn't too far from the truth. Jake could easily be considered an absentee boss, but he was always working. He took most of the international jobs, conducting training sessions for companies all over the world, while I handled most of the domestic ones.

"I'm just glad to be home for a little while. Everything going okay here?" he asked.

"Busy, but things are running smoothly. We seem to be picking up a lot more work." At that moment, as if to prove my point, the phone rang, and Jessica shuffled off to answer.

Jake started walking toward his office, motioning for me to follow him. "Good, we needed it to pick up," he said, closing the door behind us. "I have to say, the past couple years worried me."

I nodded, knowing exactly what he meant. When the economy tanked one of the first things cut from our clients' budgets was training. We'd had a fraction of our usual work for too long and all of us feared the company would go under. But Jake had too much money wrapped up in the business to let it go down without a fight. When his business partner, Sam, retired a year after I started working here, he practically sold his soul to the bank for the money to buy him out rather than to take on another partner. It was risky, but if our current books were any indication, it was a smart maneuver.

"I was looking at the calendar on my flight in from Hong Kong and if this keeps up we're going to have to add a third trainer. You and I aren't going to be able to keep up. I need to sit down and take a hard look at expanding. I don't want to have to start turning down work just because we aren't prepared to handle the overflow."

"Can we afford it?" I asked. I knew what kind of money we had coming in every day, but I also knew what kind of debts we'd been loaded down with while trying to keep afloat.

"I sent an email to my financial advisor to look over things and see what he thinks. We already have most of next year fully booked. I don't see any reason not to expand."

"It would be nice to have someone else to share the travel schedule," I said.

Jake laughed. "Tell me about it. My wife's gonna leave me if I don't slow down. She's getting sick of shopping and sightseeing while I'm in seminars during the day."

"A real tragedy there," I laughed. "Too much shopping!"

"If she cuts back on that then we'll _definitely_ be able to afford a third person."

* * *

Back at the arena that night, we settled into our seats for another fast-paced game. The first period flew by with only a few stops in play and the second seemed to be following the same pattern. Solid but perfectly legal hits kept the game moving and the energy buzzing as we all cheered. Edward had scored the game's only two goals so far, so the mood in my immediate vicinity was even more frenzied.

At some point a few weeks ago, our seat neighbors pieced together that I was dating Edward. I hadn't been hiding it, exactly, but I certainly wasn't advertising it. People could be weird, and I didn't want awkwardness amongst the regulars. It turned out they were all very cool about it, not bothering me to get them autographs or asking to meet him. They'd make the occasional joke—instructing me to withhold sex after a bad game, or to treat him right after a good one. It was all light-hearted ribbing so it didn't bother me. Actually, I found it kind of funny.

During the second intermission, we all headed out to the concourse and dispersed in separate directions for restrooms and food.

I'd just left the line at one of the many concession stands when I bumped into Emmett.

"Back off," I said, turning away from him to protect my soft pretzel.

He tried to reach around me, but was unsuccessful. "C'mon. Didn't your parents ever teach you to share?"

"I was an only child, Emmett. I never had a reason to share."

I ripped a piece off, waved it near his mouth before yanking it away and stuffing it into mine.

"Mmmm," I moaned, dramatic and loud.

"I'll just go get my own," he said, as Jasper walked up from one direction, drink in hand, and Rosalie and Alice appeared from the other.

"Good luck, this was the last one," I said.

His mouth dropped as he frantically scanned the concession stand to see if I was telling the truth.

"Why do you have to torture him?" Rosalie asked, laughing.

I shrugged. "It gives me endless enjoyment."

If he looked hard enough, I was sure he'd find some left at one of the other concession stands, but intermission was drawing to a close so we all headed back to our seats.

The period started and the play instantly made its way to our end of the ice. A few players were scrabbling right in front of us when one of them managed to work the puck loose and pass it back to an open player. The slapshot was blocked when another player poked his stick out to stop the shot, the blade crashing against the puck and causing it to fly straight up into the air.

We all watched the trajectory, unsure where the puck was headed. There was a definite arc, but it was wobbling, making it difficult to predict. When it was clear that it was headed over the glass, I felt the panic start to well up. My instinct was to move or run, but I still had no idea which way it was ultimately headed until it was too late. The puck was headed right for me, but at the last second I was able to throw myself from my seat to the one next to me, landing right in Alice's lap. My body braced itself for impact when I heard the thunk of hard rubber as the puck slammed into my seat.

When I finally opened my eyes, I saw Emmett holding the puck in the air and I immediately looked up at the screens above the ice. Sure enough, there we were for the whole arena to see. I didn't know whether to laugh or cringe at the way I was still sitting on Alice's lap while Emmett and Jasper stood, waving arms and rallying the crowd around us into raucous cheers. As I stood up, Emmett slapped the puck right into my palm and lifted my hand in the air like a victorious boxer. I ducked my head, laughing, but when I glanced out at the ice I was met with a wide-eyed Edward. He seemed more shaken up than I had been, so I smiled and shrugged, mouthing 'I'm okay' to him. He nodded, and I could see him breathe easier as he started to skate over for the face-off.

Sitting back in my seat, I turned the puck over in my hand, round and round. It was still cool from the ice, and I could smell the rubber without even bringing it to my nose. It was an interesting souvenir to have of my brush with death . . . or, at the very least, a mild concussion.

* * *

"Jesus, baby. Don't scare me like that again."

I laughed against Edward's lips at he pressed a hard kiss to mine.

"You've got reflexes like a cat, woman!" his teammate, Garrett, called from behind him. "Dude, it didn't even hit her. She doesn't need CPR."

I laughed again as Edward grunted his disappointment in my lack of reciprocation so he enveloped me in his arms instead. I was only just able to peek over his shoulder, the only movement a small wave of my hand. He held his bottle of beer up in a salute before turning away and walking toward the women eyeing him up by the bar.

We'd decided to go out even though it was a weeknight. I was heading out on the road again for work, three training sessions back to back, and my flight didn't leave until the afternoon. We wouldn't see each other until Buffalo, so after spending a little time with friends we planned to go home to squeeze in as much time together as we could.

While waiting for Edward to arrive at the bar, our group managed to lay claim to one of the pool tables where we'd been camped out since. Emmett and Jasper trash talked as they played, occasionally sabotaging the other's shot.

"You got winner?" Jasper asked Edward.

And with that one question, I lost Edward for the next hour. I couldn't really complain; the view was excellent every time he leaned over the table. At one point, Garrett swung by and the guys played in teams. The extra down time as they waited for their turns led to even more trash talking, more drinking, and increasingly bad shots. Alice, Rosalie, and I heckled from our seats, showing no mercy or favoritism. A few of the puck bunnies sidled up nearby, eating up the attention Garrett would throw their way. I hated the feeling it gave me, hoping that no one in the bar mistakenly assumed we were with them. It was an association I'd never wanted made, and I thought I'd gotten over most of my issues with it. It had been a while since I'd last worried that people would assume I was just like those girls, so the insecurity hit me out of nowhere. They left when Garrett did, since he was the only one giving them the attention they craved, and with them went that bit of self-consciousness. But clearly, I still had a long way to go before I completely gave up that particular neurosis.

* * *

My heart was heavy as we pulled up in the drop-off lane at the airport. We wouldn't be flying back from Buffalo together since the team chartered a plane, but my flight would land just a little after his allowing us to ride home together. That was still quite a while from now, though; it felt like a lifetime away. The thought of not seeing him for two weeks was gut-wrenching.

"Call me when you land," he said, wrapping me in his arms and holding tight. Goodbyes never got easier.

"You're completely sure that your parents don't mind sharing you with me, right?" I asked. In addition to my nervousness over meeting his mom and dad, guilt had started to creep in that what little time they would have with him while he was home would be split with me. He hadn't visited with them in months, though he talked to them all the time.

He laughed and kissed my temple. "I told you, they're excited to meet you. They know how I feel about you and how much it means to me to get to show you where I grew up. Who knows when we'll get the chance again? Could be summer before we find time for me to get you back over there. I'll get to see them the next week when they're here visiting, anyway."

I nodded. "Good luck," I said after a short pause. He had a few big games coming up that I was bummed about missing.

"No luck needed, baby," he said with a wink and a healthy dose of ego.

I laughed. "No fighting."

It had become our "thing" where I'd scold him about fighting after that big one that had scared me so much. He'd been in a couple scuffles since that I'd handled so much better. It was slowly getting easier.

His voice dropped to a seductive low. "You love it when I fight. You love my scars."

I immediately glanced up at the scar that slashed through his eyebrow and moaned low in appreciation.

"A little."

A whistle sounded near us as the guards tried to move traffic along. It was so jarring that I'd broken away from him and had turned with the handle of my suitcase in my hand ready to walk into the terminal before I realized I hadn't actually said goodbye. When I turned back around he was smirking, waiting for me to catch on. I rushed the few steps back to him, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him with everything I had. He stood at full height, holding onto me so that my feet lifted off the ground and dangled.

"See you in two weeks," he said after placing me back on the ground.

"Two weeks," I repeated with a nod. "I love you."

One more quick kiss to set my heart aflutter before he let me go. "Love you, too, baby."

As I walked through the doors, I turned around one last time. Forcing my responsible half to proceed, I gave him a small wave before heading in to check in for my flight. Standing in line I felt my phone buzz with a text message. "Two weeks" was all it said. I could survive two weeks, right?

* * *

**A/N: Anyone have their own brushes with death at a hockey game (or any sport, really)? I've had two. One I was in an upper section, behind the goal, and the puck managed to get over the net they put up at the ends of the ice to prevent this exact scenario. The thing was gunning right for me and I had to move quick. Head between my knees, just like the airline safety fliers tell you to do in the event of a crash. The thing slammed into the back of my seat and bounced into my back. Didn't hurt... the seat took the brunt of it. The other time was during a different game, same deal. The puck got over the net during warm ups. It clipped the top of the empty seat in front of me and then hit me in the shoulder. Some little brat grabbed the puck and ran off with it. I do still have that first puck, though.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Just a heads up (before locals call me out, LOL), I took some (a lot) creative license with the view from the parking lot/overlook. And no, I'm not a local... just watched fireworks once from that spot with a bunch of drunk colleagues while at a conference.  
**

**Thanks detroitangel for the beta. And Lisa for the preread. I've been meandering a bit with my writing... I do so much better when I write write ahead and have time to catch it. I think I've got things back on track to keep pushing forward after this. Thanks for sticking with me.  
**

* * *

**Chapter 6**

"You're sure you're all right to drive?"

I smiled at his concern. I'd just checked out of my hotel in Albany and had the rental car packed up for the drive to Buffalo. A few inches of snow had dropped overnight in an early winter storm, and he was worried.

"I'll be fine. Roads are clear and I'll be there before it gets dark."

"Yeah, but it's cold and if there's any ice—"

"This isn't my first time driving in the snow, you know," I said, starting the car and cranked the heat up, shivering at the blast of cold air that blew out.

He scoffed. "Yeah, but you're an Arizona girl . . . you're, like, at a genetic disadvantage when it comes to dealing with winter. Remember that day it dropped to sixty and you had two pairs of socks on?"

"Shut up," I mumbled, trying not to laugh. He'd harassed me endlessly about the fact I had layered up and wrapped myself up like a burrito on the couch.

His deep laugh reverberated through the phone, making me shiver for reasons that had nothing to do with temperature. The time apart had been too long, though we spoke daily. At this point, I just couldn't wait to be near him again . . . my concern over meeting his parents overshadowed by my need to finally be in the same room with him.

"I can't believe you guys are delayed," I said. While only a couple inches dropped in this region of New York state, the storm had hit harder in other areas, namely Chicago where Edward was now temporarily stranded.

"We'll get there soon enough," he said. "They've finally started letting flights take off. We just have to wait for the okay for our charter."

* * *

A few hours later, I was sitting in the hotel room, mindlessly flipping through channels and surrounded by wrappers from my earlier vending machine invasion. I'd texted Edward once I'd checked in and knew my room number, but I hadn't heard back yet. Not that I expected to; he was most likely in the air somewhere.

I finally gave up and turned the TV off, deciding to log into work for a little while to get a head start on a few things. It was an effective distraction. I lost track of time until a knock sounded at the door and I heard the muffled sounds of male voices speaking in the hall. Bleary eyed but now much more alert, I hopped from the bed and ran to the door. I fumbled with the knob in my excitement.

It seemed like there was only a split second between seeing him and being in his arms. Not that it mattered, but I couldn't say whether I jumped or he lifted. There was an 'oomf' and my arms and legs were wrapped around him as our lips fused together. I could hear what sounded like teasing or heckling coming from behind him, but I ignored it. I did feel one of Edward's hands leave my body while the voices laughed so I assumed that—whoever it was—he flipped them off.

I held on as he walked into the room. He stopped kissing me and I was about to protest until I realized he was kicking his luggage across the threshold. As soon as everything and everyone was inside, he kicked the door closed and set me down by the bed.

"You have approximately three seconds to move that laptop if you don't want it in pieces."

I wasted the first second actually considering whether or not it could be easily replaced. My sense of responsibility took the lead for a brief moment and I scrambled to move it to the desk. By the time I turned back around, Edward had a hold of the bedspread and yanked it down off the foot of the bed. Candy and potato chip wrappers went flying, as did half a bottle of Coke—thankfully capped. I gasped in shock, but only halted for a moment because in the next we were both on our knees on the bed, grasping at each other once again.

"Off. Off. Off," he said against my lips as he tugged my shirt up. We broke apart just long enough for him to lift it over my head and soon the rest of our clothes disappeared in similar fashion while we messed up what was left of the bedding.

* * *

"Nffa gn thif lng agn."

I shook my head as Edward swiped at the bits of food he'd just spit out in his attempt to speak. I laughed and tossed a napkin in his direction. Had he let this side of himself show early on, our relationship might've never gotten off the ground.

"Wanna swallow and try that again, champ?"

He chewed and swallowed, taking a big drink. "We're never going this long again. Seriously, we need to figure something out. Two weeks is entirely way too long."

My heart clenched because I felt the exact same way. "But it's kind of out our hands, isn't it?"

The topic had come up a few times in the past, but we both tended to make jokes and laugh it off. We were still pretty early into his season and it was already proving to be difficult. Maybe it was naïve of me, but I didn't want to think too far ahead. I saw this—us—as long term, perhaps even forever, but it would take so much effort to make it work. I was a little too scared to think of all it would entail or how easily everything could fall apart.

"Hey," he said, pushing his food aside. We'd ordered room service, not wanting to leave the room. The privacy and time alone was especially nice right now as a silent conversation passed between us.

Sighing, I leaned into him. "It'll work out."

"We're still trying to find our balance. I don't think we're doing too bad of a job, do you?"

I kissed him for reassurance. "No, I think we're doing better than most in our situation would. I just wish things were a little easier, y'know?"

His arm tightened around me as he pressed a kiss to my forehead, letting his lips stay there. "We'll get a little bit of a break here soon, though. With the holidays? Your travel schedule is slowing down after this trip, and I have more home games than away games after this stretch."

I let myself fall into him, nuzzling as close as I could get. Talking about how our careers kept us apart made me want to get impossibly close. If there were a way to glue myself to his side, I would.

"But then January comes and as soon as the All Star break is over, it's a rush to secure a spot for the playoffs. And my schedule will pick up again once companies are recovered from the holidays and the end of year."

He sighed, and I could tell that my pessimism bothered him.

"I'm sorry," I said. "You're right. The next month and a half will be better so I shouldn't worry about the rest til it gets here."

"No, no, we always avoid this, but maybe we should talk about it. It's going to continue to hang over our heads, and if we don't address it . . . I don't know, but it seems like ignoring it could cause more problems."

I let myself glance around the room, buying time as I thought over what he'd said. Part of me knew that he was right and it was a conversation I'd wanted to have many times, but a bigger part of me feared that whatever came to light in this discussion would drive a wedge between us.

It took every ounce of bravery I had to get past that fear. "I'm afraid addressing it could cause problems," I said, echoing his words, even though it came out as a broken whisper. I was apparently unable to muster as much bravery as I'd hoped.

He wrapped both arms around me, pulling me in tight. I could feel his lips and breath in my hair as he spoke. "Only if we let it. And I'm not going to."

I nodded against him, afraid to speak. My heart was pounding in my chest and I didn't trust myself to not stutter and mangle my words.

It caught me by surprise when he let me go rather than begin to talk. It took me a moment to realize he was clearing the trays of food from the bed. As he slipped a pair of boxers on before peeking out the door, opening it and setting the trays outside once he knew all was clear, I decided getting at least partially dressed wasn't a bad idea. The conversation ahead of us would be awkward as it was, I didn't need to add to it.

I slipped my underwear back on and grabbed the shirt closest to me—his. When I looked up he was watching me, one eye arched and a cocky smirk. I smiled and shrugged before straightening the blankets. I'd hidden in the bathroom when the food was delivered. Had I know how much he approved of my current attire, I'd have done this sooner.

In silence, we crawled back onto the bed and sat side by side, against the headboard. He reached over and took my hand, pulling it into his lap and playing with my fingers. I supposed he was nervous too, though he tried not to let it show.

"I want this," he said. "You. Whatever we have to do, we'll do it, okay? I'm planning on keeping you around for the rest of my life, so if it takes extra work right now to have everything with you? I don't care."

Hot tears burned my eyes at his declaration, and he twisted his body to face me so that he could wipe them away before they'd even had a chance to fall.

"I want everything with you too," I choked out. His lips were on mine immediately, growing more and more heated before we finally parted, knowing we still hadn't resolved anything.

Deciding to take the first jump, I told him about my conversation with Jake a couple weeks ago. "My schedule might slow down. I hope it does. Jake is looking at hiring another trainer to split the workload. If so, I won't be on the road so much. And it might give me a little more leeway to choose jobs that work better with your schedule, I don't know."

"Really?" he asked, grinning. "When did this all come about?"

"Right before I left," I said. "But he hasn't decided for sure, and he won't make any moves until sometime after the new year. And even then, he actually has to settle down at home for more than two days at a time."

His hand was at the back of my neck now, his thumb teasing up and down my flesh causing goosebumps. "But still, it's something, right?"

He stilled for a moment, deep in thought. He was struggling with something, evidenced by the look of concentration on his face. It almost looked like he was hesitant to speak.

After a moment, and much quieter than usual, he asked, "Is this job . . . long term?" I was taken aback by the question, not expecting it, and after a guilty look, he continued. "I was just thinking, wondering, about what you said when we first got together, when you first told me what you do. You said it was something that you just sort of fell into, it wasn't . . ."

". . . something I dreamed of doing the rest of my life," I finished.

"Yeah," he said with a nervous laugh.

I remembered the conversation well. I'd almost slipped and said that it wasn't the kind of career I wanted while trying to raise a family, but I'd caught myself before I could scare him away thinking I was already making plans for him. But we were in a different place now and I knew those thoughts wouldn't scare him.

"Some people can probably manage it just fine, but I always knew that if I wanted a family of my own that I'd have to move on. I want to be able to come home every night. I don't want to watch any kids I might have grow up on Skype, you know?" I paused for a moment, leaning into him. "I love my job. I love what I do. I'm not ready to walk away just yet . . . but no, it isn't long term."

He sighed with what sounded like relief and pulled at my hand until I was straddling his lap. He wrapped his arms around me and tugged me closer, resting his forehead against mine.

"And you know I won't be doing this forever." He looked into my eyes as his thumbs traced patterns on my lower back. "I'm twenty eight. I've got ten years left in me if I'm lucky—very few guys make it to forty in this league. Realistically, I know I probably have less than that. And I'm trying to make the most of it."

"You love this game," I said. He smiled as I traced his jaw with my fingertips.

He smiled and stilled my hand with his, pulling it to his mouth for a kiss. "Yes, but it's more than that. I've always tried to be responsible with the money I've made. I know the chances of ever finding a job with a comparable salary are slim to none. Even a fraction of this salary. I see these guys blowing every last cent, and I refuse to do that, especially now that I have you. So for as long as someone will pay me millions to do what I love, I'm going to . . . and I'm going to bank as much of it as I can so that we never have to worry about money."

I didn't know what to say to that. He started speaking again before I could think of how to respond. "Think about it. Think about how many people are stuck in jobs they hate because the bills need to be paid. Neither of us would ever have to go through it. Work only because you want to, and only doing something that you're excited to wake up every day doing."

"How did I get so lucky?" I asked myself.

"I ask myself that question every day," he said.

We kissed again, slow and intense. He laid me down and hovered above me, but I wanted to feel his weight against me. Tugging and pulling, he finally got the hint and slowly eased himself down.

His lips broke from mine and trailed a path across my jaw, down my neck, and into the vee of his shirt.

"One more thing," he said, his words muffled against my skin.

"Yeah?"

He pushed himself up on one elbow to look me in the eye. "Move in with me."

My breath caught and my eyes widened in surprise.

"We're both on the same page here, we both see forever . . . why put it off? It's clearly going to be a while before our schedules stop working against us, so I don't see the point in any extra separation."

My smile was so wide it was almost painful. I laughed and nodded before words finally came. "Yes. Okay, yes."

"You're an easier sell than I thought," he teased.

I laughed, unable to help myself, then I decided to torture him a little bit. "Yeah, but how easy will it be meeting my dad _after_ asking me to live in sin?"

He paled a bit, clearly not having thought ahead. Perhaps I had a little too much fun constantly teasing him about Charlie.

"Is it too late to take that back?" he asked.

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and pulled him back down to me for a kiss. "Yep. No takebacks."

"Oh well," he said against my lips. "I didn't really want to take it back anyway. He can just deal."

* * *

The next morning, I took my time getting ready. Edward had an early practice then the rest of the day he was off. The game wasn't until tomorrow so that gave us all afternoon and evening to explore his hometown. He was excited about showing me where he'd grown up, but I was still nervous—served me right for threatening him with Charlie.

I didn't realize I was shaking until I tried to put on my necklace. My tremors were so bad I couldn't line up the clasp. It wasn't that I was scared to meet his parents—they sounded like wonderful people—but I wanted to make a good impression and had worked myself up over it.

The door to the room opened and I heard Edward call out my name.

"In here. I need a little help."

Through the mirror, I watched him step into the bathroom. I didn't need to tell him—he could see me struggling with the necklace and moved to take over. Brushing my hair out of the way, he took the chain from my hands and clasped it, not moving away until he'd pressed a kiss to my neck.

With his chin resting on my shoulder, looking at me through the mirror, he asked, "Are you ready?"

"Is this okay?" I asked, motioning to my outfit. It was cold out and he'd told me not to dress up, so I'd settled on a layering a cream colored sweater over a pale pink shirt with jeans and nice boots.

"Perfect." He kissed me and led me out of the bathroom. "It's a little colder out there today. Bundle up."

As he quickly changed into something more appropriate, I dug my scarf and gloves from my bags.

I pushed my worries aside as we walked out of the room minutes later. He was so excited, almost giddy, it was hard not to be affected in the same way. His hometown, Lewiston, was just a short drive outside of Buffalo. Everywhere were signs for Niagara Falls, which he'd explained was just a few minutes from his parents' place.

We pulled off the highway into a cute little town that looked like it was straight out of a movie. The main road cut through block after block of small, local businesses and restaurants. He pointed out his favorite places as we passed. The street and sidewalks were clear, but snow dusted everything else. The pristine white juxtaposed against the green, red, silver, and gold of the Christmas decorations already making their appearance in mid-November adding to the Norman Rockwell effect. After a few blocks, the road began to slope downward. There were more houses now, a boutique hotel, and what Edward pointed out as a restaurant with attached bar, and at the bottom of the hill was a river. He pulled the car up near the grass and we got out. The air was even colder here, but he wrapped himself around me from behind. Ripples in the water betrayed how quickly it moved. Across the river, speckled amongst snow covered trees on the hillside were huge, beautiful homes; the kind you fantasize about having as your dream home. They were all big and spacious, never too close to each other, and featured tons of windows to take full advantage of the view.

"During the summer," Edward said, "there are boats everywhere out here. And there's a dock right over at the restaurant where you they'll take you out on the rapids on a raft. It's motorized, so it's like whitewater rafting without the effort. We'll have to come back when the weather's warm so you can try it."

Even though we'd had 'the talk' about our future last night, hearing him make plans still made me smile. "Sounds like fun."

"Come on," he said, pulling me toward the car. "It's freezing out here."

Inside the car was still toasty warm and I held my hands in front of the vent. Edward side-eyed me and laughed.

"What?"

He laughed and shook his head. "Arizona girl."

"Shut up," I said, lightly back-handing his arm. "Just because I didn't grow up in the tundra."

He barked an even bigger laugh as we set about touring the rest of the town from the safe and warm confines of the rental car. We passed old schools, old hangouts, and old friends' houses. Eventually, though, we ended up in front of a house comparable to those I'd admired on the hillside.

"And this is home," he said, regarding the house in front of us as if seeing it for the first time. The way he'd glance my way made me wonder if he was trying to see it all from my perspective.

"Gorgeous," I said, breathless and more nervous than ever.

* * *

Inside the house was just as beautiful as the outside. It was easy to tell that it had been decorated with a precise eye. Every piece of furniture, every decoration on the wall, every knick-knack had been chosen and placed with care. But it didn't feel like a showroom; somehow, everything worked together to feel homey and welcoming.

The smell of freshly baked cookies helped, too.

We walked deeper into the house, still not having announced ourselves. With each step I gripped Edward's hand tighter, and the good man that he was, he didn't tease me about it. He just squeezed back in reassurance. Voices drifted out from a nearby room, and judging by the clatter, I assumed it was the kitchen. Sure enough, Edward led us through the wide doorway into the most incredible kitchen I'd ever seen.

I only had a moment to take in the aesthetics of the room because his parents were there, their attention drawn to the two of us. We'd clearly caught them off-guard if the look of surprise and momentary pause were any indication.

His mother rushed from around the island, arms wide open to take him into a hug. I loosened my grip, but Edward only tightened his to keep me from going anywhere. His father moved slower, giving mother and son a moment. Before I knew what was happening, I was engulfed in a hug. His mother pulled back, looking me over and placing a hand on my cheek. I supposed the smile and slightly watery eyes were a good sign that I passed inspection.

"It's so good to finally meet you, Bella," she said.

"It's good to meet you too, Mrs. Cullen."

She immediately waved me off, lightheartedly admonishing me. "None of that. We aren't formal around here, Bella. It's Esme and Carlisle. That's it."

"Okay," I said, laughing. "Got it."

She grabbed hold of my wrist and started pulling me into the kitchen. "Are you hungry? I've made plenty. If there's something else you'd prefer, just let me know and I'll see what I have in the refrigerator."

I turned to look over my shoulder at Edward, a little shocked and surprised at how quickly I'd been commandeered. His smile was blinding as he shrugged.

"Grab a plate and help yourself," she said as we reached the island.

I looked at the spread before us. "I don't even know where to begin. It all looks delicious."

"One thing you need to know about my wife right off the bat, Bella," Edward's father said, "is that she loves to play hostess, and she always figures out how much food she needs and doubles it."

"Hush, you," she said and swatted at him with a hand towel. He ducked away from her, laughing, and in that moment I could see so much of my relationship with Edward in them. That playfulness that I'd never had with anyone else, they had it. And it was wrapped up in so much adoration that you couldn't help but feel lighter, more optimistic around them.

After we'd all loaded our plates, we settled at the table. At first they caught up with Edward. I was mostly quiet, sitting back and watching their family dynamic, so different from what I was used to.

I loved it. I envied it. I wanted it.

Eventually, the conversations and questions turned to me. It didn't feel invasive. They were truly curious and interested in learning more about me.

"So are you originally from Arizona? Or did you move there for work?" Carlisle asked.

I chuckled as I tried to figure out the quickest way to explain. "Neither?" I said, unsure of myself. "I was born in Washington, but after my parents divorced, I moved around a lot with my mom. We finally settled in Phoenix when I was in junior high. I lived there for a few years until she got remarried and I moved in with my dad for the last year and a half of high school. I went back there for college and never left."

"So do you live near your mom?" Esme asked.

I finished chewing my food and swallowed before answering. "No, she ended up moving to Florida not long after I moved to Washington. I don't really see her much. Usually just when work takes me somewhere nearby and I stop in for a day or two."

She cast me a sympathetic look. "I'm so sorry."

"No, don't be," I said. "I talk to her now and then, see her on occasion. She's got a bit of a restless spirit and she tends to distract easily. If something's not right there in front of her, it's probably not even on her radar."

I started to feel uncomfortable, like I'd said too much, but something about these people made you want to confess everything so they could hug you and tell you it'd all be okay. I never really let anyone know how much it bothered me that I felt like little more than a passing thought, but I knew I'd let it creep into my tone.

Edward's hand brushed my knee, stroking, and he looked at me with concern.

"Did you get a chance to see the town?" Esme asked, thankfully changing the subject.

"Yeah, I took her all around . . . well, she mostly saw it from the car," he said.

"It was a little cold," I said.

Carlisle got up to start clearing plates. "Yes, this cold snap came out of nowhere. It was actually pretty mild up until a few days ago. Too bad you weren't here earlier."

"You really should come back when it's warmer," Esme said as she led me to living room.

We all followed and settled down on the overstuffed couches near the crackling fireplace.

"We were actually just talking about that earlier," I said, glancing over at Edward for confirmation. Esme's head shot up, her face alight with happiness.

"Okay now," she said. Standing up, she immediately walked to the bookcase. "Baby pictures."

* * *

Time passed so quickly, though I was sure Edward would disagree. More than once, his cheeks had pinkened with embarrassment as his parents shared stories and pictures. We'd talked for hours with the questions focusing on me from time to time, but nothing intrusive or annoying. I found myself wanting to share with them.

When dinner-time rolled around, we headed out to one of their favorite restaurants. We were back on that main stretch where Edward's tour had begun, and after finding parking spaces, we headed out in the increasingly colder air getting distracted by shop windows. There were so many unique items that I mentally cursed that the stores were closed for the evening already.

By the time I started losing feeling in my limbs, we arrived at the restaurant. It was a cozy, little Italian restaurant with low lighting and an intimate atmosphere. It was a little more upscale, forgoing all of the kitschy décor of too many Italian restaurants in favor of ambiance.

We settled in with a bottle of wine and appetizers, picking up conversation where we'd left off at the house. A few people—family friends and old teachers—said hello as they passed, offering their congratulations to Edward on his success. It seemed like such a quaint little town that I didn't want to leave.

"Limoncello," Esme said as the waitress handed out dessert menus at the end of the meal. "You'll have Limoncello with me, right?"

I shrugged and smiled, unable to say no to her. "Sure."

She ordered our cordials and a few desserts for the table, insisting I had to try a little of each. Who was I to say no?

"Would you like us to pick you up at the hotel for the game? That way you don't have to navigate traffic in an unfamiliar town," Carlisle asked as we waited for the waitress to return.

"Oh," I said. "Sure, if you don't mind." The thought of being alone with them in the car would've have terrified me twenty-four hours ago. Hell, knowing I would be sitting with them at the game had given me a few sleepless nights, worrying about awkward silences and bad impressions, but those worries were long gone now.

A squeeze of my thigh brought my attention back to Edward. He looked so happy and at peace that I couldn't help but feel thrilled that I had a role in that. He didn't need to say the words for me to know how much it meant to him that I got along so well with his parents. It was written all over his face.

When the bill was paid, we headed back outside, saying our goodbyes and making final plans for tomorrow before parting ways.

Once again, I held my hands in front of the vents, trying to will them to heat up faster as Edward chuckled at me. Instead of following signs for the highway like I'd expected, he took us down a dark road that meandered through what seemed like uninhabited woods.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"I just want to make a quick little detour, then we'll head back."

I didn't think anything of it until he pulled into an empty parking lot. It looked to be part of a public park of some sort. He got out of the car and was at my door before I had the chance to move, too busy trying to figure out where we were.

"Come with me, just for a minute."

I took his hand and followed him to the fence in front.

"Over there," he said, pointing to our far left.

It took me a moment to realize what I was seeing. "Oh wow," I said. In the distance, Niagara Falls was lit up in pastels of blue, pink, green . . .

"Can we go closer?" I asked.

"Of course."

Neither of us moved. From behind, he had his arms wrapped around me, lips in my hair as I stared at the view. When the wind started to whip, though, he urged me back to the car. After a few more minutes on the road, signs of life started to pick up. As we neared the falls, things began to look much more touristy. Even with the cold, there were still a considerable number of people around. He found a spot on the street and after feeding the meter, we walked hand in hand to the overlook.

"It loses its novelty pretty quick when you live here, especially with all of this," he said, motioning to the chaos and bright lights around us. "That's why I wanted you to see it from down there, without all of the distractions."

I could already hear the roar of water and feel its spray. I was freezing, but I didn't care. I walked faster, eager to see it up close. We found an open spot at the fence, just a few feet from the rushing river as it tumbled over the cliff with violent fury.

The floodlights that illuminated the area didn't detract from the light show taking place, the colors morphing into each other seeming so delicate against the thunderous cascade. After a few minutes I was able to take my eyes off of it all to look at him. He was watching me, and I'd have been willing to bet he hadn't given the water more than a cursory glance.

Grabbing onto the lapels of his coat, I pulled him down to me.

"I love you," I said. On tiptoes, I kissed him.

"Mmm," he hummed against my lips. "Love you."

We stood there for a little while longer before I couldn't take the cold and wet any more. He rolled his eyes when I insisted on pictures of us, but he caved. My attempts at self-portraits were unflattering and hilarious, but thankfully a woman standing nearby took pity on me and snapped a few shots on my phone. I gloated when Edward silently handed his over to her.

That night, back in the hotel room after we'd dried off and thawed out, it felt like something had shifted. The connection between us had always been intense, but this was new. It was more. So much more.

It was the first puzzle piece clicking into place as we started to merge all the parts of our lives. Undoubtedly, the first of many.


	7. Chapter 7

**Still with me? It's been a while, I know. Work has fried my brain so it's been hard to stay focused in the evenings to write. Only two chapters left after this one, and I've already started on the next. I'm hoping to have them to you soon.**

**Thanks goes out to detroitangel for the beta and lisamichelle17 for the pre-read! **

**So... are all of you as ticked about the NHL lockout as I am? Some new, live hockey would've been fantastic for my motivation... just saying.**

* * *

**Chapter 7**

"One, two, three." The voices rang out in the bar in the seconds before everyone slammed shots back.

I gave an involuntary shudder at the strength of the alcohol, still unsure as to what concoction the bartender had mixed for us was. Edward laughed at me, his hand rubbing my back in a soothing manner.

"Another!" Garrett called out.

I shook my head and waved him off. "No way. I'm done."

The two I'd just consumed were more than enough considering the drinks I'd already had. It was already starting to go to my head. I had a relaxing, stress-free weekend ahead of me—the first in way too long—and I didn't want to waste any part of it useless from a hangover.

"Just one more?"

Edward grabbed his beer and handed mine to me, directing me away from the crowd at the bar. "We're out," he said to Garrett who scoffed and laughed before turning back to the line of shot glasses being filled on the bartop.

We were well into February. The last couple months had flown by thanks to the nonstop demands of our responsibilities. My schedule had slowed down considerably after the New York trip. We wasted no time getting me moved into his house. In fact, we took advantage of our friends' long weekend after Thanksgiving and thanks to the muscle power of Emmett, Jasper, and a couple guys from the team, all of my things were packed and moved in a single day.

Unpacking was a different story and still a work in progress.

Christmas crept up and kicked off with an awkward introduction between Charlie and Edward. Charlie's attempts at playing the overprotective dad disappeared in the car somewhere between the airport and home after Edward not-so-casually mentioned being able to get Charlie a couple of comp tickets to see the Seahawks in the playoffs, thanks to his agent representing a couple guys on the team.

By the time we dropped him off at the airport three days later, I was sure that Charlie would miss Edward more than he'd miss me. Now Edward delighted in turning the tables and threatening to rat me out to Charlie any time we disagreed or he wanted something from me.

He'd managed to get Charlie even more on his team over All Star Weekend. I'd nabbed a few days off—guilt-tripping Jake into taking the training session booked those days—and flew in. Charlie met up with us and sat with me during the Skills Competition and the game itself. Granted, I'd just seen him a month earlier, but it was so nice spending that time with him. I'd forgotten how nice it was to just get away. For years, all of our time together was spent with one of us hosting the other. This almost felt like a family vacation and I'd made a promise to myself to figure out how to do it more often.

The weeks since then had been this strange hybrid of chaotic calm. With holidays and other big events past us, Edward and I were finally able to enjoy the mundane domesticity of cohabitation. We'd become such homebodies lately and had to make an effort to go out and socialize, like we were tonight. Every other aspect of our lives kept us so busy that it was tough to share our free time with the outside world.

He was busier than ever now that the league was in the final push before the playoffs. Teams were scrambling to lock in their spots, which meant more time practicing and more time dissecting game tapes.

For me, Jake had made good on his promise to add another trainer. A couple weeks ago he'd brought Seth aboard, and although this move would ease the burden on both of us eventually, the extra work of teaching him our course and preparing him to go off on his own only added to my workload.

I often felt like the walking dead by the time I got home.

"You look like you're going to fall asleep," Edward said. We reclaimed our booth and he pulled me close, letting me rest my head on his shoulder.

"Mmm," I mumbled as I closed my eyes. "Alcohol makes me sleepy."

Warm air brushed my ear as he spoke words so quiet only I could hear. "Not too sleepy, I hope. I have plans for you later."

I knew my smile was full of mischief when I looked up at him, chin resting on his bicep. "Never too sleepy for the kind of plans you have."

Just as he opened his mouth to speak, another body slid into the booth across from us.

"You two are disgusting." It was Garrett, apparently finished with shots at the bar for the time being. "You live together now—shouldn't you be arguing over dirty socks and who put the empty milk carton back in the fridge?"

The booth quickly filled up with the rest of our little group. Heidi, one of the team wives, pushed Garrett over to make room for herself and Alec. "Leave them alone. You only wish you had someone willing to tolerate your nasty-ass socks."

Garrett was already distracted by a tiny blonde trying way too hard to look like she wasn't trying too hard. He pointed at her before leaning across the table to tell us "That's the one. Right there. Gonna marry that girl."

We all laughed and shook our heads. This was him, this was what he did. Every girl that caught his eye, he made the same pronouncement.

"I can see you doing something like that," I said. "Out of everyone I know, I wouldn't be surprised if you were the one to get drunk and get married in Vegas."

"To a stripper," Edward added. The other guys nodded.

"Or a burlesque dancer," Heidi said.

I laughed. "The wedding pictures would be her with feathers to the ceiling and him with glassy eyes and dopey grin."

"Annulled three days later," Alec said.

"Fuck you all," Garrett said. He gave each of us a pointed glare, but fought a laugh the entire time.

The moment passed and wave of silence hit the table before Alec changed the subject.

"So . . . you think we're gonna be here next year?"

* * *

The limbo that the team existed in weighed heavily on my mind, even after we'd returned home.

The team's financial struggles were no secret. Even with the increased attendance and higher standings, the money just wasn't there. The city and team owners were scrambling to put a plan together, but so far nothing had been settled. The league had been threatening for some time to step in, and talk was building again. Rumors were rampant.

"Hey, where are you?" Edward asked, noticing how lost in my own mind I was.

I started stripping out of my clothes, eager to hop into the shower and get the bar smell off of me.

"What happens if the team gets sold or moved?"

His mouth twisted, whether in thought or frustration I couldn't tell.

"If that happens, we'll figure it out." He reached in to turn the shower on, his hand cutting through the water to test the heat. When he was happy with it, he turned and held his hand out to me. "Come on."

He helped me in and stepped in behind me. Immediately I felt his arms wrap around me and his chin rest on my shoulder as the water sprayed.

"Nobody knows what's gonna happen. It might be that _nothing_ happens. We can't really make plans for something that we don't know. I don't see the use in worrying ourselves until things are more concrete."

"You're right. I guess tonight just got me thinking about it too much. Everything is going so perfectly right now that I hate having this unknown just hanging over our heads."

"Yeah, it sucks, but what can we do?"

I turned around in his arms and hugged myself closer to him. "Nothing. Let's just forget about it. We'll worry about it when we have to."

His fingers ran through the tangle of my hair as he leaned down to capture my lips with his. "Brilliant idea."

* * *

"Oh, he's just so dreamy."

The only thing that topped Emmett's falsetto was the way he fluttered his eyelashes as he spoke. I'd just taken a drink a split second before he started mocking the girls at the glass and was now choking through laughter.

Alice pounded on my back. "Take it easy there."

"Hi," Emmett said as he waved to the three girls who had turned to see what the commotion was about.

They gave him a funny look and turned back toward the ice, occasionally glancing over their shoulders as though knowing they were the butt of a joke, but unsure who was making fun of them or why.

"So, Bella," Rosalie said.

"Yeah?"

"What are you doing this summer?"

I couldn't help but rack my brain—not for summer plans, but as to why she would be asking, especially with such a mischievous tone.

"Not sure yet, why?" I said.

We'd both leaned forward in our seats in order to speak around Emmett. She casually brought her left hand up to her face and pretended to brush a lock hair from her cheek. My eyes widened at what I saw.

"Oh my god!"

I reached over and grabbed her hand, pulling it close to see the diamond.

"So?" she asked.

"Whenever and wherever you need me. I'm at your beck and call."

I reached over and pulled her into a hug. It didn't take long until an extra set of arms wrapped around us as Emmett said, "Now this I can get used to. Every man's dream, right here."

We let go and sat back up, I laughed and elbowed Emmett in the process. A few people were watching us, including the girls at the glass.

"Did you know about this?" I asked Alice.

"Just found out on the way here. If you hadn't ditched us . . ." she trailed off, teasing.

"Damn work, getting in the way."

"How's that going, by the way?" she asked.

"Okay," I said. "Everything's a bit off kilter while we train Seth and figure out how to split the schedule three ways now. But it's good. I just can't wait til it slows down."

High pitched squealing interrupted the conversation, so we turned our attention back to the puck bunnies.

"Ohmigod, he looked _right_ at me," the tallest of the three.

"And that smile! Did you see that smile?" another said.

"There he is again!" the first said as she posed—hip popped, boobs out.

I looked up to see that it was Edward that they were talking about and covered my mouth with the back of my hand trying not to laugh. He _was_ looking, and he _was_ smiling . . . just not at them.

Emmett snorted and covered it up with a cough, but not before he caught the girls' attention once more. To my surprise, when someone spoke up, it wasn't him. Instead, it was Jerry, the retiree fellow season ticket holder right behind me.

"Of course he's looking at you and smiling at you, sweetheart. Surely it has nothing to do with the fact that his girlfriend is sitting right behind you."

It took a second to register, but the excitement in their faces immediately melted into embarrassment. I knew the feeling; I could already feel my face heating up and slouched a bit in my seat as though it would make me invisible.

They didn't bother to hide the fact that they were sizing me up. Judging by the disapproval on their faces, I came up lacking. Of course, they'd clearly been conditioned to believe that tight clothes and excessive cleavage were the key to bagging a professional athlete. No doubt my simple jeans and long sleeves stumped them.

They turned to watch the ice again, though their buzz had effectively been killed. When the buzzer sounded a minute later putting an end to warm ups, they walked up the steps with slight sneers still on their faces. As soon as they were out of earshot, Jerry leaned forward between me and Alice. "Do you think it was something I said?"

* * *

"I'm not so sure about this."

I had a death grip on Edward's forearms. I'd been to a few of these optional practices before, watching from the stands. It was always fun to watch the guys goofing off, enjoying themselves. These skates were always so much more laid back without any real structure. Today, though, he'd coaxed me into a pair of skates that he'd bought for me and surprised me with. The other guys were already in the locker room and the Zamboni was circling the ice.

"I won't let you fall." I gave him a withering look and he amended his words. "I'll try not to let you fall."

I glanced over his shoulder at the Zamboni.

"Right now I'm more worried about being flattened."

"He's almost done. We won't go anywhere near him."

"Won't he be pissed that we're messing up his ice?"

"Nah," he said. "He'll have to run it again before the next game anyway. And sometimes office staff sneak down here and goof off during the day so it's bound to be messed up before then regardless."

I sighed, knowing I was about to relent. We hadn't even made it onto the ice yet.

"Okay."

He walked backward and stepped over the lip onto the ice without faltering the least bit. Me, I waddled and trudged, my feet clopping against the ground. As soon as my right foot hit the ice, I stiffened.

"You're fine," he said and urged me forward.

I let my left foot follow, feeling both feet wanting to slide out from under me. I tensed and felt my balance begin to waver. Edward's grip tightened, supporting me.

"Just push off, however feels natural," he said. Well, none of this felt natural. I had visions of Bambi, slipping and sliding on a frozen pond, and was certain he had ten times the grace I had in that moment.

I did as he instructed, pushing off with the slightest bit of force, afraid of picking up too much speed. He didn't seem to have the same issues, as I could feel him pulling me faster than I should have been moving.

"Slow down, slow down!"

He laughed, but didn't slow. "We're barely moving!"

Barely moving? We were already almost to the first turn.

"Shouldn't you be watching where you're going?"

"Don't you trust me?" He was still laughing at me, the little lines crinkling around his eyes.

"Not at the moment, no."

As we started around the turn, my eyes were glued to his feet as they crossed each other, certain that he'd kick my skate and send us tumbling. He didn't, of course, but that didn't stop me from watching when we hit the next turn.

I tensed again on the straightaway as we neared—then passed—the Zamboni.

"Sorry for messing up your ice, Mister," I yelled.

The driver grinned and tipped his hat at me, but Edward was shaking his head.

"What?"

His smile was so pure I couldn't be too mad at him for laughing at me. "You."

After another lap, Edward made me try to skate by myself. Again, I was an uncoordinated mess, wobbling all over the place, but I stayed upright so I was calling it a victory.

As we skated loop after loop around the rink, the Zamboni finished and the goals were replaced.

"Stay right here," Edward said after guiding me to the middle of the ice.

"Where are you going?" I asked, starting to panic. He was my safety net. I was going to fall without my safety net.

He kissed me quickly and started skating away. "I'll be right back."

I started to reach for him to keep him from leaving until I realized it was throwing me off balance.

He stepped off the ice and reappeared a minute later, lobbing pucks in my general direction.

"What in the hell are you doing!" I flinched every time he let one fly.

"I'm not gonna hit you!" he called back.

He skated over to me a moment later, stick in hand.

"Here, take this," he said, handing it over.

I took it, but held it out from my body as he skated around and kicked the errant pucks closer. As he skated back, he looked at me and laughed.

"It's not gonna hurt you." He took hold of my arm and pulled me closer to center and started to manipulate my arms and legs into position. "Here, take a few practice shots."

"Me?" I yelled.

"You act like you have no idea how this game works," he said.

"I _watch_ the game, Edward. I don't _play_ it." I looked at the distance between the pucks and the goal. "I take one swing and my ass is going to the ground, you know that, right?"

"You'll be fine," he insisted. "Just try it."

He was wrong. It took approximately two seconds after my first shot for my butt to be intimately acquainted with the ice.

* * *

"Be nice to me," I said.

"I'd be very nice to you, but you won't let me touch you."

"I'm wounded because of you."

"Want me to kiss it and make it better?"

His hand slid down my back and stopped somewhere over my left cheek. I snuggled in closer to him on the couch, trying to guilt the remote control off of him.

"It'd sure be nice to find something on TV to distract me from the raging pain in my hip." I might've been exaggerating a little. A lot. But it was kinda sore. Probably bruised, though not nearly as bruised as my pride.

"I gave you Ibuprofen and an ice pack, what more do you want from me?"

"The remote. This movie sucks."

He kept the remote as far from me as possible, never taking his eyes off of the television at any point during our conversation.

"You're delirious. Are you sure you didn't hit your head? 'Cause this movie's awesome."

I huffed and shifted, finding a small amount of enjoyment in the wince he gave as my elbow dug into his side.

"I don't even know what's going on! They're just blowing stuff up. They haven't even explained why."

"Yeah? So?"

I gave up for the time being. "Such a guy."

A few minutes later, his cell phone rang. He searched his pockets before he realized he didn't have it. He laid the remote down then immediately realized his mistake. He waved it at me as he stood over me.

"I'm taking this with me."

Go right ahead, I thought.

As soon as he was in the other room, I scurried to the TV and manually changed the channel, although finding the right buttons was hard. When was the last time anyone had to do this? Damn, televisions changed a lot over the years.

I could hear Edward walking back into the room just as I made it back to the couch. "Hey, what's going on?"

There was an extended silence where someone must've been speaking on the other line. I didn't think anything of it until I noticed Edward's expression. I couldn't place it, but it concerned me.

"Holy shit."

He didn't yell it; the matter-of-fact way he said it was even more disconcerting.

"When?"

He glanced up at me while the person on the other line spoke. I mouthed "what?" to him, but he held a finger up telling me to wait.

"Where?"

More silence, then, "Yeah, man. Thanks for calling. See ya tomorrow."

As soon as he ended the call, I started. "What's going on? What happened?"

"Garrett just got traded."

* * *

The team made a few more deals over the next week or so, offloading a few moderately high contracts in an effort to better the financial situation. Edward kept telling me not to worry, but I couldn't help it. Everyone who'd been traded had some idea that it was a consideration and not a word had been mentioned to him. I wanted to believe him, but for the time being, I was watching the calendar closely and counting down to the trading deadline.

It wasn't new to me. I'd followed the league long enough to expect this very thing every February as teams began that last ditch effort to put together the perfect combination of players that would—hopefully—get them through the playoffs. It was different this time. I was personally invested.

We did get a few new players who meshed well and helped us win games, but it was still hard to see people I'd come to consider friends, or at least acquaintances, say goodbye.

Things quieted down significantly in the last few days before the deadline, so it looked as though the front office was finally happy with the team they'd assembled.

I was out of town again, this time mostly just observing as Seth took the reins, leading the training session. He was pretty much ready to go out on his own, and I couldn't wait. I'd already planned a thousand different ways to spend the extra time I'd have.

Our last day on this three day road trip had been a busy one. The group assembled hadn't been a very large one, but the company had a number of branches. Our lunch hour had been packed with business talk since they were interested in bringing this training to their other locations, and before we knew it, we were rushing back to finish the afternoon.

I sat off to the side again where I'd be out of the way and could observe Seth. I took a few notes, had a few tips and pointers that I wanted to give him, but for the most part he had it down. He'd already been on a number of trips with Jake and a few with me; what he didn't know was that, if things went well this time, Jake was ready to let him take over on his own.

So when the session ended, it was tough to hold back and not congratulate him or celebrate.

"So how do you feel?" I asked as we walked the few blocks to our hotel.

He grinned. "Great. Really great. It's still strange having you—or Jake—there watching me, knowing that you're critiquing me, but I think I have a pretty good handle on the material now. I'm pretty confident with it."

"You know we aren't judging you, right?" I said. "Well, not in a bad way."

"No, I know," he said. "Oh, hey, a couple of those guys invited us out tonight. They're all going to some sports bar for dinner and drinks. Wanna go?"

"I'll pass," I said without hesitation. "I kinda just want to relax. You go, though. Have fun."

"You sure?" he said, and I knew he felt guilty about leaving me alone.

We stepped into the lobby of the hotel. "Positive. Actually, I've been eyeing up the cupcakes in bakery case of that deli over there every time we pass. I'm gonna stop in and grab one before I go up to my room and spend my night eating junk food."

"Okay then," he said. "Do you just want to meet down here in the morning?"

"Yeah. Nine o'clock?"

"I'll be there."

He took off toward the elevators to go to his room as I detoured into the deli. I placed my order, deciding on an iced tea as well, and stepped off to the side while they made it. An evening newspaper had been left on the counter, so I flicked through it to pass the time.

Not finding anything on the front page, I moved it aside. The sports section was directly underneath and what I saw made my heart drop.

It was a picture of Edward mid-slapshot with the headline "Coyotes Make Bold Last-Minute Trade—Cullen to Pittsburgh" mocking me.

I could barely breath, I was shaking, and it felt like everything was closing in on me. I began to search my purse for my phone, sure that there would be a message letting me know this was a misunderstanding of some sort.

My hands fumbled, trembling too badly to function. I finally found my phone and it took a few tries to bring up my messages. The day had been so busy that I hadn't checked since this morning, and I'd always turned it to silent while in a training session. I never even set it to vibrate because that too was a distraction. I'd worked through lunch on those negotiations for further training sessions so I hadn't had a chance to check then.

Sure enough, I had a ton of messages—both voice and text. I brought up text first seeing all of my friends' names pop up, but most were from Edward. I skimmed, unable to read, but apologies jumping out at me. I didn't want to waste time sorting through everything to find answers, so instead I called him.

The phone rang once, twice, and finally he picked up mid-way through the third ring.

"Bella." The sound of his voice rocked me.

I turned and left the deli, heading straight for my room. "What happened?"

I could hear the sob trying to fight its way out in the quaking of my voice.

"I had no idea," he said. "I swear to you. This all came out of nowhere this morning. I've been trying to call you."

"I know, I know," I said.

"They couldn't pass up the offer, they said." The connection crackled but didn't disconnect as the elevator ascended to my floor. "They got a couple younger, but high scoring guys who are still locked into small contracts and a first round draft pick. Getting rid of my salary was just . . . they couldn't pass it up," he repeated.

"What happens now?" I asked. "When do you go?"

An uncomfortable silence passed. "I'm already gone."

* * *

**A/N: This chapter was what made me want to write the expansion. I try not to put too much real life in my fics, but I did steal a pretty big event here. This was how I found out that *my* hockey player got traded. Came home from college for the weekend, planned to see him play a couple games, giant headline in the paper when I got home. Trade was made in the morning and he was almost immediately on a plane. Nothing else here is taken from real life. Our relationship was nowhere near this advanced, so none of B&E's relationship is based on that. Just this little (big) plot point. No self-insert... I don't want to squick anyone out. Hell, I'd squick myself out if I did that.**

**And for those of you who know me... you aren't at all surprised by where I sent him, are you? ;-)**


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